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A Psychic Autobiography 



BY 

AMANDA T. JONES 



Author of "Ulah," "Atlantis," "Poems," (of the Rebellion) 

"A Prairie Idyl," "Rubaiyat of Solomon," "Poems; 

1854-1906," Etc. 



With Introduction by James H. Hyslop, Ph. D., LL. D., Secre- 
tary of the American Society for Psychical Research 



Drink waters out of thine own cistern and running 

waters out of thine own well. 
Let thy fountains be dispersed abroad and rivers 

of waters in the streets. 

—Proverbs V; 15, 16 



NEW YORK 

GREAVES PUBLISHING COMPANY 

Tribune Building 



tf v *fa 



Copyright 1910 by 
AMANDA T. JONES 



Printed by 

The York Printing Co. 

York, Pa 

©CIA275866 



DEDICATION 

To Prof. William James, who long ago proposed that I 
should prepare for publication a history of what I may ven- 
ture to call my super-normal experiences, and who now adds : 
" You may remember how I encouraged you to write it," 
this faithful record is humbly and reverentially inscribed. 

A. T. J. 

Junction City, Kansas. 



INTRODUCTION 



si 


^zM^icS 


5 







HAVE read these life experiences of Miss 
Amanda T. Jones with extraordinary in- 
terest. I do not speak for thern as scientific 
evidence of the supernormal, where that 
method involves certification and corrobora- 
tion for each incident, but I do speak for 
them as human experiences coming from a 
source that is entitled to have its testimony heard. Miss 
Jones is a well-known poetess in this country, having pub- 
lished several volumes of poems, including a collected edition 
in 1907. She has also been a successful inventor and prac- 
tical business woman. These accomplishments have made 
her well enough known to make attention to her psychic ex- 
periences desirable. We can easily find objections to each 
and every incident taken alone, but the collective mass of 
them, though having only a record of memory, must have its 
interest for those who are seeking to justify investigation into 
such phenomena when they are verifiable and for those who 
are seeking confirmation of better attested ones. 

I do not indorse the critical views of the book, though I 
enjoy the vigorous and satirical assaults made on certain 
views, and I am sure they will meet approval in some quarters 
where the duty to science is not as great as mine. But it is 
the mass of experiences told here that suggest the improba- 
bility that they are wholly without significance. The " Cru- 
sade Documents " are extraordinary incidents, considering 
their origin. One does not need to assume that they are 
what they purport to be, — though they may be all this, — but 
as an illustration of automatism, which is becoming better 
known all the time, they should receive the attention and at- 
tract the interest of science. Here the record is fairly good, 
and the phenomena are familiar to all of us who are inter- 
ested in psychic research. Some day they will be a part of a 



6 Introduction 

collective whole bearing upon a larger conclusion, and the 
whole book, with its more apparently supernormal incidents, 
will add to the literature of human experiences tending more 
and more to widen the significance of human personality. 

The trenchant and dramatic style of the author will make 
her autobiography much more readable than the usual scien- 
tific account, and those who have already familiarized them- 
selves with the supernormal will recognize material which 
will help to throw light upon obscure portions of better at- 
tested facts, in as much as they are reported without that 
consciousness of their interest which comes from a study of 
the literature of the supernormal. The scientific aspect of 
these phenomena is much in need of having their quantity 
verified, and we may well value incidents which are unfortu- 
nately less evidential than we wish they were. But, in the 
absence of the desirable attestation, the story of an interesting 
life of unusual experiences may at least teach the scientific 
man, in the future, to catch them on the wing and protect 
them against the natural scepticism of a materialistic age. 

JAMES H. HYSLOP. 

New York, May, 1910. 



A Psychic Autobiography 



THE AUTHOR TO HER FRIENDS 




HEY who essay to write, hope to be under- 
stood ; and they who write from irrefutable 
experience, may hope to be believed. 

One says to you : " The Russian em- 
perors are crowned in Moscow." 

" By that same proof, which seems no 
proof at all," you tell your little son: 
" The Russian emperors are crowned in Moscow." 

Another, no less reputable, says: " I have a spirit-friend 
who visits me." But as for that, " It so exceeds familiar 
forms of proof," you have (or think you have) a right to 
doubt. 

And yet, in very truth, conscience requires of me some out- 
ward revelation of an inward life — made luminous by spirit- 
intercourse. If, then, you care to read, I ask you first to 
take me as a child whose known progenitors were " trained 
along the centuries to hound and hate a lie " ; then follow on 
four years beyond my three-score years and ten, up to this 
present hour. 

Thereafter, if you find it possible, declare : " Nothing is 
true! No emperor was ever crowned in Moscow. There 
is no Moscow, — neither any Russia. As for this woman, she 
— with all the rest who claim to know that there is life to 
come — may clash the cymbals, chanting after Deborah: 
' Hear, O ye kings ! Give ear, O, princes ! ' Not the less 
we know that Sisera is dead. He lies within the tent." 

You give some prisoner a bunch of flowers : — forthwith he 
understands that somewhere out beyond, great fields are all in 

7 



8 A Psychic Autobiography 

bloom. Even so I have — and all of us may have — some dim 
acquaintance with the spirit-world, whose people enter in 
(fair prison-visitors!) and so bestow their gifts. These I 
would fain transfer. But first I give my little story of de- 
scent and soul-inheritance, adding thereto a simple narrative 
of early life as printed in my latest book of verse — made up of 
former books and later poems. This was addressed to all my 
friends : pray let me count you in. 

As to what follows, let it signify that I, a spirit, speak to 
you, who may be many spirits, out of the airy void, as spirits 
may, hoping that you will hear and understand. 

INTRODUCTION TO "POEMS : 1854-1906 :" 

Because you who have known me personally have given me 
true affection and you who, not having met me, have yet 
proved yourselves kind and dear, I am minded to preface this 
presumably final collection of my metrical writings (covering 
a period of fifty-two years), with a few notes which may, in 
your estimation, add to its value. Also, I have been so often 
solicited to give some account of myself for others to print, 
that I can scarcely avoid making use of this last opportunity 
for showing by what inheritance and through what impulses 
I was led to choose the poet's vocation. Whatever is auto- 
biographical herein, closes with my nineteenth year. After 
that time the poems themselves continue the story, since, 
whatever their demerits, sincerity is nowhere lacking; and 
albeit my " singing robe " may not be a fabric to wonder at, 
I may at least claim that the spinning and weaving thereof 
were most carefully done. 

Upon an elevated, horizontal grave-slab in Watertown, 
Mass., dated in Puritan times, you may read : " He Was a 
Painful Preacher." If anyone shall say of me two hun- 
dred years hence : " She Was a Painful Poet " what 
more could be desired ? 

Henry Jones, born on Greylock Mountain (then Saddle- 
back), Mass., March, 1798, of early Welsh-Puritan English 
and Scotch-Irish ancestry, and Mary Alma Mott, born in 
Oriskany, N. Y., February, 1813, of Huguenot, English and 
l remotely) " North River Dutch " descent, were united in 



The Author to Her Friends 9 

marriage July, 1828. They welcomed me — their fourth 
child, in East Bloomfield, Ontario County, N. Y., October 
I9» 1835. My mother and her eight children then living, 
welcomed the twelfth in Black Rock (North Buffalo, N. Y.) 
soon after my father's death in 1854. That this large family 
was well endowed with physical vitality appears from the 
fact that although four were removed by induced and acci- 
dental causes, two of the elder ones lived till quite lately, and 
the average age of the six who remain, including the youngest 
three, is at this date (March, 1908) sixty-four and one-half 
years. 

My great-grandfather, Seth Jones, who inherited the up- 
land farm first taken up by his ancestors about 1670, left 
home to serve two years in the Revolutionary Army. Among 
his seven mature sons (summed up by him as " forty-two feet 
of boys "), was one Seth, who — first being ordained as a Bap- 
tist Minister — puzzled his lone way, by much Biblical study, 
into Universalism, — then looked upon by most with feelings 
akin to horror. He drew after him several brothers, and 
sixty of his one hundred and eighty church members — " a 
third part of the stars of Heaven," my grandfather Isaac 
used to say. And indeed his biographer, the loved Stephen 
R. Smith, states that so great was his fervor and natural elo- 
quence, Calvinists flocked to hear him; while in sermons of 
almost interminable length, but never wearisome, he won 
many over to the doctrine of ' Free Grace.' " 

Especially did his intense belief in the " Prayer of Faith," 
produce a deep impression — partly due to this unquestioned 
fact: During a distressing drouth (I think near Sackett's 
Harbor, N. Y.), an assemblage of farmers in open field ex- 
pressed, in his presence, utter hopelessness with regard to 
rain, saying that a single more day would ruin every crop. 
" If you would pray for rain with Faith, it would come," he 
said. " But we have no Faith. Will you not exercise it for 
us? " Whereupon he knelt down upon a stump and prayed 
mightily for three hours, while (it was related), copious 
showers fell from the eyes of his hearers. When he de- 
scended, the first great drops of a " glorious rain " were dash- 
ing down. At eighty-three he presided over a national Uni- 
versalist convention. 



10 A Psychic Autobiography 

A letter lately received from Mrs. A. C. Pierce, of Junc- 
tion City, Kansas, giving me an account of her grandmother's 
conversion from Calvinism, and of the sermons of Seth 
Jones, adds: " They told me of his wonderful gift in prayer, 
and that, through his intercession during a dry time, the an- 
swer came in the visit of a copious rain. I heard the rain 
story many times during my youth, until it grew to be a part 
of Seth Jones to me." 

I am proud to record that a stranger, who had been his 
parishioner in youth, once addressed me because of a marked 
facial resemblance to " Elder Jones." Nor was the likeness 
merely facial. In my eighth year, while, one morning, scur- 
rying through the Lord's Prayer, an unvoiced message ar- 
rested me as a bolt: " Child! You are not praying! You 
are insulting God ! " I slunk away, wholly ashamed. " Do 
you pray? " asked our Sunday School Superintendent of each 
deeply pious child soon after; but when my turn came, I 
alone answered " No! " I think the look in my mother's 
eyes meant approval. Both she and my father abhorred a lie. 

Now, something had been lost across the way in a vacant 
house or its neglected garden, and my eagle-eyed mother, with 
four others, had made long and fruitless search. She stopped 
her spinning one day and her favorite song (" The Bower of 
Prayer"), to offer me a reward if I would find it. Such an 
easy thing to do ! And there were beads in prospect. As I 
crossed the road, the impossibility of succeeding first occurred. 
Then every thought was merged in one intense desire to pray. 
Now I could ask — which I had never done in my life, I fell 
on my knees among the sunflowers, and seemed to myself go- 
ing up, up, almost to the clouds, for my answer. It came: 
" Yes, Child ! You shall have the key." It was in my hand 
within five minutes. That same key has since unlocked for 
me many heavy doors. 

Several of my father's immediate family, including himself, 
were not only devout Methodists but were subject to experi- 
ences, such as would now be called " Psychic." Yet they 
were not anemiacs. I am inclined to refer certain tendencies 
of my own in that direction, chiefly to my father's mother, 
born Hannah Henry. Listening in 1856 to a rather noted 
blind revivalist (author of quaint religious books — " Wedlock 



The Author to Her Friends 11 

and Padlock," for instance), who was liable to be swept away 
in veritable trances, a young man, uncommonly apt in the 
study of human nature, insisted that, despite my non-Meth- 
odism, " Blind Henry " and I were " temperamental counter- 
parts." The preacher proved to be my father's first cousin. 
Now I have not a scrap of written authority to prove that 
Patrick Henry belonged to a branch of our family, but the 
great uncles, on some now forgotten authority, asserted it; 
and one's great uncles are to be revered. 

My maternal grandmother, Naomi Daggett (Mott), of 
Pittstown on the Hudson, was the daughter of one who, 
acting as drum-major in General Wolfe's army, displayed 
such fortitude under hardships and so distinguished himself 
by bravery at the battle of Quebec, that his superior officer 
presented him with his own sword, saying: " You have been 
a better and braver soldier than I." Alas and alas! His 
children had that same sword " melted, beaten, hammered or 
rolled " into — souvenir spoons ! Another of Naomi Daggett's 
ancestors was that Mayhew, who was driven out from among 
the Puritans for liberality of religious teachings. He took 
up his abode in Martha's Vineyard Island. 

Louis Mott and his son Josef (or it might have been Josef 
and his son Louis), being French Huguenots, fled to America 
and settled in Mount Pleasant, Hunterdon County, New 
Jersey. Dropping an aristocratic prefix, they fore-gathered 
with the Quakers. Ebenezer, a grandson of the elder Mott, 
greatly enhanced his wide influence in the society by marrying 
Sarah Collins, an English Quaker lady, who had celebrity, 
abroad and in America, as a " preacher " of singular sweet- 
ness and power. Both are memorialized in " The Lives of 
the Saints." 

Each of their sons was given, on leaving home, sixteen Jos 
and thirty-two half Jos — a Jo (Spanish-Mexican, I think), 
being a gold piece that rated as worth sixteen dollars and a 
half, when a dollar was of much greater value than now. A 
spinster daughter inherited the Homestead property — willed 
to that one who should remain a Quaker. So far as I know, 
this was the high-water mark of prosperity among all my 
progenitors. 

Their son, my grandfather, John Mott, supposed himself 



12 A Psychic Autobiography 

to be a " Friend," until about thirty years of age, although he 
had lost his " birth-right " by marrying out of the Society. 
It came about, however, that owing to this following circum- 
stance he became a fully accredited Revolutionary officer. 
One bitterly cold Sunday in December, 1776, John Mott was 
forced to defend his family (a wife and three children) from 
six marauding Hessian soldiers. They broke down the bar- 
ricaded door with axes, but were without firearms, as was the 
case with my grandfather (unless, indeed, tongs and poker 
might be so classed). As a result three took to their heels, 
and the remaining three were cast out over the door-sill dead. 
One of the two little girls, hidden in the cellar, never forgot 
the tumult overhead — she living to be not much under a hun- 
dred. 

The following morning John Mott went to General 
Washington's camp, near the Delaware, and received from 
Washington's " own hand " a lieutenant's commission, au- 
thorizing him to organize a company of recruits for the 
Continental Army. This he did at once, equipping them at 
his own expense; and thereafter spent all his possessions in 
the service of his country throughout five years and eight 
months, till conclusion of peace. 

Be it noted that his " saintly " mother, after having been 
taken by him through camp, humbly confessed that the " car- 
nal heart took pride and rejoiced in the protection of a son 
who was a tall and brave soldier." The son would never 
apply for a pension, although forced to support his third fam- 
ily (a wife and eight children, of whom my mother was the 
youngest) by learning and practising the tailor's trade — nor 
yet in a beggarly way, for he had apprentices. Hale and un- 
bowed at seventy-seven, he died, as did Washington, of quinsy 
and mismanagement. Shortly before his death, his sons and 
others saw him crossing the Mohawk river on the string- 
pieces of a very long bridge in process of building, but none 
dared follow. 

The fact that his name does not appear on pension rolls 
makes it difficult to obtain a complete record of his services.* 
We know that he fought at Brandywine and at German- 



* See Appendix 1 



The Author to Her Friends 13 

town, and was much employed by Washington in secret ser- 
vice. He, himself, related to my mother (then a child of 
nine), the story of his pursuit and capture of a spy who was 
carrying important papers to the British. His older children 
stated that he never spoke of the three Hessians whom he was 
forced to kill, without tears, saying always that it seemed like 
murder. Yet after that, he fired with intent to kill, upon a 
Hessian soldier, who was flaying a live cow for meat, after a 
manner known to exist among his countrymen. 

To digress: John Mott's second wife, Mrs. Mann, 
brought him a stepson, William, who became an eminent 
educator of Pennsylvania, a president of one of her universi- 
ties for thirty years. In a letter to my mother, written in 
1855, when he was very old, he gave the credit of his great 
success wholly to my grandfather, who had wisely advised 
and generously assisted him; and he added that, mindful of 
what had been done for himself, he had, besides his own fam- 
ily, " brought up three boys who had become Governors of 
their respective states." Further to digress: The fact is 
beyond question that had it not been for his eminent son, 
William B. Mann, of Philadelphia, who controlled the Penn- 
sylvania delegation to the Republican convention of i860, 
William H. Seward would have been nominated for the 
Presidency instead of Abraham Lincoln. " We know not 
all the paths." 

And yet more concerning John Mott ! The country, after 
the war, was overrun with desperate men; and my grand- 
father was chosen County Sheriff, to hold them in restraint. 
It came about that a large family — even to a babe in the 
cradle — was murdered — plunder being the object — during his 
absence from home. Knowing nothing of this, he dreamed 
that he entered into an untraversed forest in his home neigh- 
borhood, noting his way carefully, and finally went down 
into a tangled dell where were two villainous looking men 
lying under cover. A third, young and prepossessing, sat 
wringing his hands. " Why are you doing that? " asked the 
dreamer, and was answered : " There is blood upon my 
hands. It is the blood of a lamb." Upon his return home 
the next afternoon he organized a search-party, caused the 
glen to be surrounded and arrested the three, who, in all par- 



14 A Psychic Autobiography 

ticulars, answered to those of whom he had dreamed — save 
that the youngest one instantly rose and made full confession 
for all. As he had never before been engaged in villainy, 
and had been compelled by the others to drink to the point 
of frenzy, my grandfather labored hard to get his sentence 
commuted, although it was he who had, in distraction, killed 
the babe. Grieved that this man must die with the rest, the 
sheriff resigned his office and would never track another 
criminal. 

I relate this incident because it permits me to say that the 
development of what may be called capacity for spiritual illu- 
mination seems to me a not unlikely result of those inner com- 
munings characteristic of Quaker worship. I suppose my 
mother to have drawn from this source a certain power of 
pre-vision in dreams, sometimes fore-showing even national 
events; as in 1832, I think, when she saw the whole land 
covered with tents, upon the largest of which she read: "In 
186 — there was war for liberty" — the last figure seeming 
to be blurred as if made up of several. Nor was I myself 
(since I am to be spoken of) left absolutely without inherit- 
ance of such a gift. As witness: "The Prophecy of the 
Dead " written when our apprehensions had been quieted by 
the declarations of Seward that the Rebellion would be over 
in ninety days. Leaving mother at 10:30 one morning, and 
merrily telling her I had promised to write a love-ballad, I 
crossed to a large school-house and shut myself in. Eight 
lines were written when I dropped the pencil. Then all the 

billows rolled over me I wrung my hands, saying " I 

cannot write it! " But the law of utterance was inexorable. 
At noon I returned and read the poem to my mother. She 
heard it with a pale face, and said solemnly: " Amanda, you 
have been inspired ! " I answered : " Mother, I have been 
inspired!" In July, 1862, I with others, expected to hear 
any day of the fall of Richmond. Again prophetic knowl- 
edge and utterance came — verified nearly three years later. 

Love of country characterized our parents equally. Our 
father read aloud to us the history of the long struggle with 
as much evidence of emotion as he exhibited at " Family 
Prayers," or in his fervid church meetings. Our mother 
sang and recited to us innumerable revolutionary ballads, 



The Author to Her Friends 15 

learned before her tenth year, of her father and half-brother, 
John, who had served through the war of 1812. The latter 
had enjoyed nothing more than slipping over into Canada, 
where he was well known and certain to be called upon for 
entertainment, and singing those very songs — the fun lying 
in the certainty of arrest for " contempt of the King." 
Landed in jail, for form's sake probably, he made the ballads 
ring again till he was let out. 

Our parents biased us politically, one as much as the other, 
though I think mother most thoroughly instructed us. At 
nine I hurrahed by the road-side, in a faint, scary way for 
Henry Clay, while the boys were singing: "Van! Van! 
Is a used-up man ! " 

Also I ardently believed in a protective tariff — having un- 
derstood that " free trade " had virtually annihilated woolen 
manufacture — my father being master of the art. And when 
a long Whig procession trailed along before election, having 
a great band-wagon filled with young ladies all in white, to 
represent States (I forget how many), I laughed at the one 
lady in mourning following after with the flag: " Please let 
me in ! " What, let Texas in to make another slave state ? 
Not I ! For sentiment I delighted in hearing my mother sing 
Whittier's " Yankee Girl." 

When in later years, my mother, as a widow, was depend- 
ent upon our oldest sister (see " The Life Beautiful ") and 
her sons, for support of herself and the younger ones, two of 
the three boys enlisted with her consent — one of whom did 
not return. My sister never complained of her added bur- 
dens. Patriotism was, in itself, a religion with us. 

I had not — none of us had — our mother's phenomenal 
memory, but this is my earliest recollection: Before me, a 
few rods away, was a clear creek, beyond which rose a green 
hill. A red-faced and red-haired boy was pinching my right 
arm. I was not crying (and that was characteristic), but to 
avoid seeing his mocking face, I looked past him to a brown 
two story house, where I wanted to go, and all about me, so 
fixing the landscape indelibly upon my brain. I saw and 
recognized the place just fourteen years later, on my way to 
a country school I was to teach,— ignorant of the fact that 
for a single summer that house had been my home, I then be- 



16 A Psychic Autobiography 

ing less than two years old. I grieve to say that the boy was 
in " State Prison " at twenty-five. My older brother had a 
still more remarkable memory of an event and conversation 
which took place when he was but eighteen months old. My 
parents imagined that a child of three, exceptionally vigorous, 
who could name all the letters of the alphabet after a single 
telling, was old enough to go to school. And, indeed, an 
older sister was in the highest reading class at five. After 
snowfall they kept me out till the time of mud. The first 
abiding affection I had outside of home was for a man who 
saw me astray in the middle of the road on my way to school, 
and, wading through, pulled me out of my shoes and carried 
them and me to the school-house door. As I never asked for 
help, the older ones had forgotten me. I was quite seven 
before I was promoted from the New Testament to the 
" English Reader " — practically a high-school reading book, 
made up of master classics. 

At three we were visited by my grandmother Mott, whose 
beautiful, white face filled me with wonder. A year or two 
later, I strayed from home, through a meadow where tall 
grass almost hindered movement, and came upon a Turk's 
cap lily. Perhaps I shall be as much amazed when I first 
open my eyes on the flowery wonders of Paradise, but I al- 
most doubt it. I worshipped the flower, until at last a con- 
viction fastened itself upon my mind that here was something 
that God had "just made! " 

I was not quite six when imagination sprang into existence, 
the manner of which is related in " Coming Home." 

Now, in those days, we country people were mainly depend- 
ent upon the weekly church paper and the " District School 
Library " for reading, outside of the Bible. Sunday School 
libraries hardly counted if Charlotte Elizabeth's pious books 
had achieved the honor of the Pope's malediction. (I used 
to wonder why they seemed so tame. ) But books were more 
necessary than daily bread to our parents. They taught the 
older ones, including myself, to consider the religio-astronom- 
ical works of Thomas L. Dick, D. D., LL. D., with Milton, 
Pollock, Baxter and Bunyan, as almost biblical. My father 
was impressed with the idea that the Blest (his uncle Seth 
had shaken his faith in there being any perpetually a/zblest), 



The Author to Her Friends Vt 

would roam from star to star to learn of God, and perhaps 
find at last that " Central Sun," from which all glory and 
all law emanate. I liked my father's ideas better than my 
mother's, for each time that she convinced him of a literal 
resurrection of the body, from Scripture texts, something un- 
convinced him by another sunrise. I, too, remained as un- 
believing. 

But we had lighter reading: Frederica Bremer, Jane 
Austen, Maria Edgworth, Eliza Cook, and, best of all, 
Felicia Dorothea Hemans, whose passion flowers of poesy 
are unwithering. 

Oh, but we had much more than this! I do not know 
how my mother had made such vast reapings in English liter- 
ature. She left school at ten when her father died, and was 
much employed in spinning and the like until her marriage, 
five and a half years later. But large portions of Dryden, 
Pope, Campbell, Goldsmith, Scott, and many other poets, were 
seemingly as familiar to her as her own spelling book, whose 
chapter on orthography I heard her repeat in middle age. 
History, biography, romance, all had been gathered up as 
sheaves. She sprang surprises upon me even to the last of 
my stay with her — spiritual hymns, quaint " love and murder 
songs," ghostly old ballads. Not less, her own thoughts had 
swift and brilliant utterance, and her conversational powers 
were unusual. 

During my ninth year came the great Millerite excitement, 
and nearly all the members of the Methodist Church we at- 
tended, were swept away. " The tenth day of the seventh 
month " was to be the great day of resurrection. With what 
pride I listened to my mother on that wild, last Sunday, when 
she arose in the midst of " Hallelujahs " and silenced them 
with a plain exposition of Scripture, gathering up text after 
text to prove the delusive nature of their expectations ! Men 
and women looked at each other in dismay, while in a clear, 
controlled voice she summed up her arguments; and in the 
vestibule, one came to her sobbing: " Sister Jones, but for 
you I should have gone over the bay! " 

Such poems as came in my way between six and nine re- 
tain their hold upon my memory yet. " Barbara Lewth- 



18 A Psychic Autobiography 

waite " gave me the heart-ache, and I never read this stanza 
of Bryant's without a tremor: 

" The stormy March has come at last, 

With wind and cloud and changing skies; 
I hear the rushing of the blast 

That through the snowy valley flies." 

But I loved best of all that wonderful story of Lady Mary 
Campbell's dream, as related in verse by the family chaplain, 
beginning, " The moon had climbed the highest hill." I 
longed to believe it true, as I have since learned that it was. 
No ghost could have scared me — I loved the very thought 
of them! 

I ought to have learned the meaning of grief when eight 
years old, through the death of little Mary (see " A Flower 
of Paradise "), but instead I lost myself in contemplation of 
some imagined glory hiding her from sight. In lower moods 
I planned how I would tell, when grown up, about her 
beauty and sweetness, and how, when exactly eight months 
old, she had with perfect distinctiveness repeated a sentence 
of thirteen words, shouted out by brother Bennie; and how 
God had wanted her — I was proud because He had wanted 
her. Three years later I sobbed violently over the coffin of a 
schoolmate; but it was not grief so much as a realization of 
her wonderful loveliness. 

At thirteen, Sorrow took hold of me with might. A 
brother, but two years my senior, died in my presence, in 
school, of heart disease. The teacher, being frightened and 
incompetent, left me to take entire charge of removal, sum- 
moning physician and parents, and there could be no possi- 
bility of tears, grief was so vast. This was the " pure young 
lad " of the poem " Father." He was the most wonderful 
boy I ever knew. Endowed with the splendid intellect of 
our mother, as none of the others could claim to be, it had 
been sublimated by the refining fire of his malady into spir- 
ituality, so that I might well name him in another poem, 
" The Sun-Bright Boy." After this I was dull and morbid, 
rinding little comfort save in study and in the singing of 
mournful hymns. It was, in a sense, well for me that at just 



The Author to Her Friends 19 

fifteen I began teaching " all by my lone " in the backwoods; 
and rather strenuously, since boys of eighteen were among my 
pupils. Two years of alternate teaching and high-school at- 
tendance resulted in a failure of health, from which I never 
fully rallied. 

" The Dead Pine " signalizes a partial emergence from a 
six years period of physical depression and distress, which 
had culminated in such an excessive weakness of the lungs 
that the ablest of physicians (Dr. Hubbard Foster, of Clifton 
Springs Water Cure — who, with Dr. Cordelia Green, un- 
doubtedly saved my life) prohibited the writing of verse for 
all time. That poem concludes the volume entitled " Ulah " 
— 300 pages, copied, compiled and partly written a year later. 

" Lost and Saved " marks the opening of a new era of 
thought and purpose, accompanied always by such severe 
mental labor as uncertain well-being would permit. I owe 
my increased length of days to the care and tenderness of 
many friends. 

At this point I turn aside to say that but for Davis W. 
Clark, D. D., editor of " The Ladies' Repository," and after- 
ward a Bishop of the Methodist Church, I doubt if the gates 
of that sacred enclosure, where poets learn to sing, would 
ever have been opened for me; and, indeed, the little quarterly 
payments for verses contributed to that Magazine during six 
years, comprised nearly all my earnings. A merry letter which 
I wrote to him in 1853, denouncing a contributor for advising 
young poets to " stop," appeared in the Editor's Table as 
having " bubbled up into our face." Now my father firmly 
believed that I was to be a poet, and urged me to send some- 
thing for publication, himself selecting the verse. During the 
three following months I heard him several times say in an 
undertone, " I wonder whether Dr. Clark will publish ' The 
Transplanted Flower.' " While I was standing by his bed 
■ — he slumbering toward Death — the magazine, containing 
the sorry little piece so named, was handed me; and to his 
unconscious soul, I said : " Father, I will be a poet if only 
for your sake." 

Now why should I add more ? 



II 

CASTING THE NET 




HE REV. O. B. FROTHINGHAM, a 

devout and profound thinker and reasoner 
of the school of Liberal Theology, finally 
bade farewell to his devoted congregation 
and retired from those public ministrations 
which had made him eminent; announcing 
H^ that he should never again ascend the pulpit 
until he should have attained a summit of spiritual experience 
as yet unknown to him. He said, not in these exact words 
indeed, but humbly and to this effect: 

" I have made the various religions of the world my deep- 
est study during many years. I perceive that however they 
seem to differ, all have had their origin in that inherent fac- 
ulty which enables Man, environed by a visible universe, to 
divine an invisible one of incalculably greater moment. Con- 
fucian, Zoroastrian, Hebrew, Catholic, Greek and Protestant, 
all with one accord and by one common impulse, bow down 
before a symbolized or inwardly perceived Unseen; and all 
of these — nay even Barbarians and Savages, number among 
their multitudes fine souls, who in supremest moments, rise 
to supermundane heights or become conscious of the approach 
of supermundane beings. 

" I have, moreover, held converse with men and women of 
many classes and creeds, whose self-revealments, indubitably 
sane and trustworthy, have convinced me that they know 
more than / of what is beyond mere mortal ken. They have 
told me of inspired thoughts, of illuminating visions, of visits 
from departed friends. They have shown me that there is 
an inner, converting Power, which regenerates guilty souls. 
They have breathed holy atmospheres; and beyond all else, 
they have had ecstatic seasons of communion with One of in- 
effable Name and Nature. To discredit these would be to 



20 



Casting the Net 21 

malign humanity ; to scoff at Moses and Elias upon the mount 
of transfiguration; to shame the Christ, who talked with 
them; and to pronounce God, Himself, a liar and a cheat. 

" A faculty that belongs to mankind belongs to me. Be- 
lieving, to the core of my heart, in the verity of a spiritual 
universe, whose immortal inhabitants were once prisoners of 
mortality even as I, reason tells me that, in the distribution of 
heavenly gifts, I shall not be overlooked. There must come 
an hour when I shall no longer grope in twilight, but walk 
joyfully among men, blest with the infinite consolation of 
open sight. 

" I await my special revelation. Meanwhile it becomes 
me to wait in silence." 

So Octavius B. Frothingham! — Not so Thomson 

Jay Hudson, Ph.D., LL. D., Author of " A SCIENTIFIC 
DEMONSTRATION OF THE FUTURE LIFE," 
" THE DIVINE PEDIGREE OF MAN," " THE LAW 
OF PSYCHIC PHENOMENA " and " THE EVOLU- 
TION OF THE SOUL." Instead of reaching reveren- 
tially at the Lord's table for the Eucharistic bread and wine, 
he set himself, as a spiritual " Scientist," to formulate a 
" working hypothesis, universal in its application to all classes 
of Psychic Phenomena, — being conscious in a vague, general 
way, that the phenomenon of telepathy, if it could be proven 
to exist, must be a factor of supreme importance in any theory 
of causation." 

After a time he chanced upon Mrs. Carpenter of Boston, 
whose " Psychic powers had been trained by her husband to 
a high state of proficiency." After " partially hypnotizing " 
her, he procured from a store near by, a pack of " common 
playing cards" and with her eyes so sealed (mind you), 
" that it was a physical impossibility to open them," he 
" shuffled and drew." Not seeing the selected card himself, 
he held it up for others to see, until the lady had correctly 
named " half the pack," and was " exhausted." Twenty-six 
successes, and not one failure! But, in a series of tests, he 
found that if he were alone with any " percipient " and 
handed him or her a card without looking at it, the experi- 
ment always resulted in failure. " It was thus," he adds, 
" that I learned to doubt the existence of the faculty of clair- 



22 A Psychic Autobiography 

voyance, properly so called." " Clairvoyance," he explains, " is 
the power to see what is occurring at a distance, independently 
of the aid of telepathy from living persons." Moreover, 
after spending much time with other " percipients " — all par- 
tially or totally hypnotized — and conducting experiments 
upon a still loftier plane, he prognosticates, nay, he stoutly 
proclaims that telepathy between " living persons " may be 
made to explain all classes of psychic phenomena — defined as 
" the phenomena of the human soul." " These," he tells us, 
" include Mesmerism, hypnotism, spiritism, demonology, 
mental therapeutics and a thousand other things which need 
not be mentioned," since he has " no intention of troubling " 
us with them. But one and all " must be studied just as the 
physical sciences are studied," viz: in the quoted words of 
Lord Bacon: " By observing or meditating on facts." Most 
conscientiously he studies them just that way. 

Now, he surveys a very broad field and he picks up facts 
by hundreds, — by thousands, one might say. He observes, he 
meditates, he frames logical deducements, (he is nothing if 
not logical ! ) ; and it is all so plain ! Through hypnotism we 
arrive at telepathy. Through telepathy we arrive at mental 
duality. Through mental duality we arrive at the relations 
between man, the finite, and God, the Infinite; — also we 
learn " a thousand other things." In fine, we know just 
where " we are at," for Dr. Hudson tells us. Let us absorb 
a little of his wisdom: 

i : " Man has two minds, the objective and the subjec- 
tive." 

2 : " The objective mind is that of the ordinary waking 
consciousness." 

3 : " Each of these two minds is capable of independent 
action, and they are also capable of synchronous action. But, 
in the main, they possess independent powers and perform in- 
dependent functions." 

4 : " The distinctive faculties of one pertain wholly to 
this life, those of the other are especially adapted to a higher 
plane of existence." 

5 : " The subjective mind is constantly amenable to con- 
trol by suggestion." 

6 : " The subjective mind possesses the power of trans- 



Casting the Net 23 

mitting intelligence to other subjective minds otherwise than 
through the ordinary sensory channels." 

7 : " Telepathy is a power belonging exclusively to the 
subjective mind." 

8 : " Observable telepathic phenomena are never produced 
under other than abnormal conditions of the body and of the 
objective mind." 

9: " The subjective mind, is the mind of the soul." 

10: "The subjective mind or entity possesses physical 
power; that is, the power to make itself heard and felt and 
to move ponderable objects." 

11: " Science has at last succeeded in unraveling the 
whole mystery of spiritistic phenomena, removing them from 
the domain of superstition, and demonstrating that all the 
manifestations, of whatever name or nature, proceed from the 
subjective minds of living persons." 

12: "With a difference only of degree, therefore, we 
find in the soul of man every essential attribute of Om- 
niscience, and every power of Omnipotence." 

13 : " Last, but by no means least in importance, we find 
the faculty of telepathy, which we must suppose to be a divine 
potential. Science pauses here and asks this question, which 
each must answer for himself : ' Does not the possession of 
this faculty involve the logical deduction, not only that it is 
the obvious means of communication in the future life, but 
that it is the ever open channel of communion with God 
through prayer; and not only that, but is it not the potential 
agency of divine inspiration ? ' " 

Now, at last we arrive at Dr. Hudson's " working hypoth- 
esis," — formulated " in strict accord with the inexorable laws 
of logic and scientific deduction! " As thus: 

By means of hypnotism, our Psychic powers, which are, 
" divine potentials," may be " trained to a high degree of 
proficiency," — even to the extent of being able truly to de- 
clare that some one present is looking at the knave of clubs. 
This demonstrates " wordless transference of thought," — in 
one word telepathy; "the power that is obviously adapted 
to the uses of disembodied intelligences and no other." 
We may possibly hypnotize ourselves, but we can never 
know anything of the result — our objective minds being 



24 A Psychic Autobiography 

rendered imbecile by the process, for the time being. The 
proper way seems to be a hypnotization by some one else, who 
better knows how. He can " train " our " psychic powers," 
tell our subjective minds what to think, what to see, what to 
tell others, even how to discriminate between spades and dia- 
monds ! Should he be very gracious indeed, he may " sug- 
gest " to our subjective minds that they communicate to 
our objective minds some special matter, so that, when 
the latter fairly emerge from idiocy, they " remember " 
that which, in fact, they never knew; and forthwith they 
work like bees constructing brain-cells in which to store up 
that mock remembrance, with others, safe from obliteration. 

When we are hypnotized, our subjective minds become 
" disembodied intelligences," untroubled by any outward 
consciousness. We converse with each other, at will, by the 
law of telepathy — that " divine potential," which all subjec- 
tive minds, incarnate, discarnate or half-way between, share 
with the Infinite. Such potency is ours, that we can transfer 
thoughts, all around the world, without the aid of sense- 
organs. Telepathie a deux is comparatively simple; but there 
are telepathie a trois, telepathie a mille, if you like! Oh, 
your messages may vibrate through a thousand, thousand 
minds, and, like the light from fixed stars, burn their way to 
recognition. 

By means of telepathy God communicates with us through 
an " ever open channel." By telepathy He communicates 
with celestial intelligences or disembodied subjective minds. 
By telepathy they all communicate with Him and with each 
other. By telepathy we also communicate with God and 
with each other. All, all — finite and Infinite — possess this 
" divine potential," and control this divine law, or are con- 
trolled thereby. 

But wait: What hinders disembodied souls, who ex- 
change thoughts with God and with each other, from ex- 
changing them also with us, who are their very kith and kin ? 
They used to do so objectively and subjectively when they 
were greatly restrained by earthly conditions. Now they are 
set free. Nay, the mere waving of hypnotizing hands (not 
always, alas, overclean!), will disembody us for a season, and 
render us like unto them. Having, in common with us, 



Casting the Net 25 

" every essential attribute of Omniscience and every power 
of Omnipotence," why can they not tell us somewhat of all 
we yearn to know ? 

Well, because Dr. Thomson Jay Hudson has logically 
demonstrated that telepathy between " living persons " ex- 
plains all " Psychic Phenomena " under the sun ; and more- 
over — because ! 

At last we perceive the beautiful simplicity and consistency 
of this " inexorable " logician's " working hypothesis! " 

O! Octavius Frothingham! You, who lifted dim eyes 
heavenward, and waited meekly the coming of that hour 
when it should be your turn to climb Mt. Sinai, where " out 
of the midst of the fire," God talks face to face with the sons 
of men, why did you not visit " some store near by and pro- 
cure a pack of common playing cards? " 

Let us be just. Dr. Hudson has been a most conscientious, 
painstaking, patient and ardent investigator of hypnotic futil- 
ities. For our sakes, rather than for his own, he has worked 
his way through the narrowest possible crevices, into many an 
underground cavern of almost illimitable extent. He has 
warned us who have followed, against foot-entrapping fis- 
sures. He has called upon us to admire stalagmite and stal- 
actite, as though they were floral wonders, — veritable roses of 
Sharon. He has discovered (or imagined) more than one 
bottomless pit. He has cast his nets into that river of the 
underworld men call the Styx, believing that those silent 
waters teem with life; and he has brought up, out of that 
darkness, a great number of little living fishes — all blind. 

To change metaphors, he has not been measuring and esti- 
mating the human soul, but rather the long shadow it casts 
over earth, as it moves, at early dawn, along the mountain 
tops. Search his books through, and you will not find one 
record of an individual spiritual experience, known to one 
unhypnotized " living person." 

" Of myself, this I saw ! " " These words I verily heard." 
" This matter I foreknew." " This holy fire that burns 
and hurts not, has been kindled in my heart by divine grace." 

So spake Savonarola, Martin Luther, Richard Baxter, 
John Bunyan, Philip Doddridge, Isaac Watts, Charles Wes- 
ley and Sarah Flower Adams. So speaks Eva Booth today; 



26 A Psychic Autobiography 

and so have spoken innumerable men and women who needed 
no hypnotic suggestions to make them believe that they were 
immortal, — so sweet and abundant are the springs of heavenly 
comfort that overflow the earth! 

" After these things Jesus showed himself again to the 
disciples at the sea of Tiberias." . . . 

" Simon Peter saith unto them : ' ' / go a-fishing.' They 
say unto him, ' we also go with thee.' They went forth, 
and entered into a ship immediately ; and that night they 
caught nothing. 

" Bui when the morning was now come, Jesus stood on the 
shore; but the disciples knew not that it was Jesus. 

" Then Jesus saith unto them : " Children, have ye any 
meat? " They answered him, ' No/ 

"And he said unto them'. 'Cast the net upon the right 
side of the ship, and ye shall find.' They cast therefore, and 
now they were not able to draw it for the multitude of fishes." 

Let us cast our nets upon the right side of the ship. 



Ill 



CHILDHOOD AND THE DUAL MIND 




EFORE I enter upon that intimate and 
most faithful narration of the experiences of 
an inner life, which my friends have a right 
to require of me, it may be well to mention 
a desire expressed by some few to the effect 
that much shall be interpolated or inter- 
fused, concerning my life " at large." 
Whenever it shall seem to me that exterior conditions or hap- 
penings, even remotely, may have led up to, or enhanced psy- 
chic agitation, I shall not hesitate to outline them, so that the 
severest reader may weigh their influence in the balance 
against ultimate effect. To go further would be to obtrude 
myself and degrade my thesis. 

These stories of the soul, without regard to their relative 
consequence, will mainly be related in chronological order. 
Should many, even the most of them, seem trivial, it may be 
urged that trivialities, like protoplasmic molecules, make up 
the sum of that conscious life, which is kept in pulsation by 
inherent spiritual energy. It may be reverently said that the 
Infinite manifests infinity by moving among and operating 
upon, an infinite number of finite particles. If there be a 
seraph, the history of his conscious existence must include all 
that ever concerned him, from the quickening of a primordial 
cell, to his present supernal exaltation. Be sure that he has 
not attained seraphic potency through any dislodgment of 
slender capacities or annihilation of minute remembrances. 
He is the greater because of them. 

Should a friend, long absent in foreign countries, stand be- 
fore our door and knock, or ring a bell, to apprize us of his 
return, would we consider his act trivial? We would be 
triflers in truth, should we stand within, and hesitate to open, 
were we able to undo the locks, 

27 



28 A Psychic Autobiography 

And should another friend return from holy mountains — 
never trodden by mortal feet — and call to us from the shore, 
can we imagine that he would refuse again to break bread 
with us and give thanks? One of the most beautiful spirits 
that, to my knowledge, ever dwelt in mortal frame, went out 
after days of singing, shouting and bursts of holy rapture — 
aware not only of Divine favor, but of the visible approach 
of mere men and women " gone before," who had shared with 
him the little interests and perplexities of daily human life. 
Nevertheless, when his loved earthly associates afterward 
gathered for fervent prayer, and one with another joyfully, 
tearfully said: — " I feel the presence of Brother Kendall." — 
" I am conscious that he is with us this moment," — uprose his 
wife, Martha, answering them as with authority: "Wil- 
liam C. Kendall is not here. He is with his God. He 
stands, night and day, before the great white Throne, sing- 
ing: — ' Alleluia! Worthy is the Lamb ! ' " She forgot that 
God, Himself, abides among men. It is said He is immanent 
in plasson and despises none of his protozoa. 

Returning to my introductory chapter, and taking up that 
little story of the arrested prayer and the lost key, it seems to 
me that not all the tenuous reasonings of even a Dr. Hudson 
could web that experience over with hypnotism. 

I had leaped from slumber at the call of appetite. I had 
but one distinct purpose. I must hurry to join those others 
at the breakfast table. It is in my mind that, while on my 
knees, rushing through the Lord's Prayer, I was hooking my 
dress. Before I could say, " For ever and ever," the bolt fell. 
" Child, you are not praying! You are insulting God! " I 
did not see, but my mind located above me the one who had 
sent down that stinging rebuke, causing my flesh to tremble 
and my cheek to burn with shame. A child, not eight years 
old — myself at least — could neither have constructed that 
sentence out of a vacant brain nor entertained the thought so 
embodied, without suggestion. 

Was that stern rebuker just my own sublimized, subjective 
mind? — or the floating subjectivity of any "living person," 
by chance abroad and, by accident, within hearing? 

There are hypotheses that no sane thinker can accept ; and 
these are of them. 



Childhood and the Dual Mind 29 

How then? Can it be supposed that any exalted person 
not " living " — mortally dead but spiritually quick — would 
take notice of a little girl's benighted, heathen soul? My 
long sainted great-grandmother, maybe, that noted Quaker 
" speaker " who stoutly strove to lead the " higher life " on 
earth, and who incited many others to follow her example; 
For was not I the child of her very son's very youngest 
daughter? 

Quoth Thomson Jay Hudson: — "The question whether 
we shall retain our individuality in the future life, is, to 
most people the question of immortality itself. Manifestly 
the non-retention of personality would be the equivalent of 
annihilation." 

Sarah Collins is therefore still an individual — an earth- 
remembering, infant-loving Mother. But what matters the 
identity — herself or any other? I had learned my first re- 
ligious lesson : Speak when the Spirit prompts. At all other 
times keep silent in the presence of God. 

Whether I addressed the Supreme Being as I knelt beneath 
the sun-flowers, praying child-wise : " Let me find the key ! " 
I hardly know. But I remember that, as I seemed to rise 
heavenward in a confusing light, One — fully apprehended as 
an individual, albeit not seen — met me with the message: 
" Yes, Child ! You shall have the key," and I sank back to 
the body, if indeed I had been absent. I can remember no 
other moment of my life when my mind was so emptied of 
all thought and so filled with all content. 

I arose and went around to the western side of the house. 
The key, not being Janus-faced, would only lock and unlock 
from within ; it was therefore necessary that we should enter 
by the window. Now, my mother had been given the privi- 
lege of using rooms for storage, on the sole condition that the 
key should not be lost; — and when did my mother ever fail 
to fulfill a trust ? Under the window was a hard, bare, clay- 
and-gravel bank, thrown up to protect the cellar from cold ; 
and it was my mother's theory that the four-inch piece of brass 
had slipped thereon, from the pocket of one climbing out. 
The search went on fully two weeks, — a search in which the 
three older children, my mother and even my father, took 
part. A hundred times, at least, sharp eyes had scanned that 



30 A Psychic Autobiography 

broad stone-hard bank ; and now clear, young eyes scanned it 
once again. I turned away saying in a sing-song voice, " The 
key isn't here! The key isn't here!" I propped up the 
window and climbed in, walked once around the lower room, 
passed up stairs, walked part way around the upper room, 
and then, announcing to myself with happy satisfaction: 
"Now I will find the key! " — ran down, swiftly crossed to 
the window and leaped out. Before me, as I alighted, some 
four feet from the house and exactly in the middle of that 
barest of banks — impossible to be overlooked — there lay the 
key! 

My amazed mother, by searching inquiry (we had but two 
neighbors), satisfied herself that none but ourselves had en- 
tered that deserted yard. But I, because of innocent shame, 
kept silence. 

Saith Dr. Hudson: "The subjective mind or entity pos- 
sesses physical power, that is, the power to make itself heard 
and felt and to move ponderable bodies." 

And again : " The Phenomenon that presents the great- 
est interest in this connection, is that of levitation of ponder- 
able bodies without physical contact or appliances. This I 
have repeatedly witnessed under the most exacting test con- 
ditions." 

And yet further, mentioning Alfred Russell Wallace and 
Sir William Crookes : " Each of these eminent savants veri- 
fied the physical phenomena of spiritism, especially telekinesis, 
by indubitable tests." 

Well — but whose subjective mind met mine, half-way up 
the blue; and whose subjective mind levitated that ponder- 
able brass? 

But is it so indeed that " a spiritual energy, inherent in the 
souls of men, is competent to modify or set at naught the ac- 
tion of the physical forces of nature? " — that it may " neu- 
tralize a powerful current of electricity," " defy the law of 
combustion " and " defeat the law of gravitation? " 

And have the greatest of living scientists demonstrated all 
this? — Sir William Crookes, Alfred Russell Wallace, and 
their collaborators Serjeant Edward W. Cox and Dr. Hug- 
gins, F. R. S., in whose presence the conclusive tests were 
made? — All these and many others, including Dr. Hudson? 



Childhood and the Dual Mind 31 

Behold, then, my great uncle Seth Jones — noted expositor 
of faith in prayer! (See introductory chapter.) Mark him 
among those faithless farmers who could perceive no sign of 
coming rain either in heaven above or on earth beneath. 
Listen while he advises them. " If but one of you would 
pray with faith, the rain would come," and again, " / have 
the faith." Watch him, for three long hours, kneeling 
upon that oaken stump. Mark his mighty strivings. Be 
melted to tears by his heaven-moving eloquence. See or not 
see, (for your eyes may be holden), that ascending spirit — 
all unmindful of the fleshly habitation. And fail not to un- 
derstand how his ecstatic, cloud-compelling energy, answered 
his own prayer, offered in the Name and through the majesty 
of that Omniscient and Omnipotent One whom he addressed. 
Remember that there were many witnesses — plain, farming 
men — who lived long to testify how the great drops, falling 
on his upturned face, recalled him to outer consciousness ; and 
how by jubilant increase, they poured and poured, 

" While the rocks and the rills, 
While the vales and the hills," 

rejoiced in the plentitude of that " glorious rain ! " 



Now, once for all, let us talk a little about the " dual 
mind," discovered by means of an inexorably logical " work- 
ing hypothesis," and demonstrated by the Psychical Researches 
of Thomson Jay Hudson. 

" The distinctive faculties of the objective mind pertain 
wholly to this life. Taken in the aggregate they constitute 
pure intellect. When the brain dies the objective mind ceases 
to exist." 

[Ergo; Mind — pure intellect — is destructible /] 

" It should always be remembered that the power of the 
subjective entity is the most potential force in nature, and, 
when intelligently directed, the most beneficent. But like 
every other power in nature, misdirected, its destructive force 
is equally potent." 

" The subjective mind should never be allowed to usurp 



32 A Psychic Autobiography 

control of the dual mental organization. To believe in the 
reality of subjective visions, is to give the subjective mind con- 
trol of the dual mental organization; and to give it such con- 
trol is for Reason to abdicate her throne. Its ultimate mani- 
festation is insanity." 

Ah! What shall we do throughout the zeons of Eternity 
without our objective minds; All belief — "gross supersti- 
tions," all thought — delirium! Naked, naked beings, more 
potential than gravity, more devastating than elemental fire ! 

Alas ! I am no logician ! When I read that " the mon- 
eron — the very lowest form of life — is endowed with Mind, 
and exhibits the essential attributes of Omniscience," I won- 
der which mind? 

But one of the attributes of Deity would seem to be the 
power of appropriating a physical universe to spiritual uses. 
Does not He, the Infinite, make room for his disparted finites 
— our very selves — in plasmic cells? Are we not tenderly 
nurtured there with very matter, out of which we build us 
fleshly habitations ? — and are they not consecrated temples, in 
which we stand to minister, or fall before that cloud whose 
glory fills the Holy Place? Eternally conscious of the outer, 
He, our Progenitor, holds fast His objective Mind forever 
and forever. Nothing of Him can die with any dying brain- 
cell. And always that " pure intellect," emanating from 
Him, goes on transferring its energy — Dr. Hudson tells us — 
" from a microscopic, unicellular organism, up through a 
thousand gradients, to the grand culmination of physical per- 
fection," while all along the way, " is found the promise and 
potency of a human soul." 

God associates us with Himself, from the first, endowing us 
with His power of appropriating the material to the necessi- 
ties of the spiritual. Shall not we also retain our objective 
minds, with abundant means for recognizing and taking part 
in His outer Universe — though brain-cells die and scalpels 
demonstrate that no soul ever found lodgment therein? 

Nay, will not both our minds, as one, inhabit finer bodies 
than these that are " sown in corruption ? " Are there not 
incorruptible bodies of veritable substance, invisible to earth- 
dwellers? Have they not been elaborated from and within 
the visible, and may not they be subject to further refinement 



Childhood and the Dual Mind 33 

throughout the cycles of eternity, yet never lose their hold on 
the primeval world ? Always a body, tangible to itself, how- 
ever near to imponderability: always a spirit — finite particle 
of the Infinite; always an objective consciousness, mediating 
between the two; always an indomitable entity, more and 
more closely approximating to the Divine Essence, but never 
to be absorbed therein! 

If we are not to be eternal associates of God, in his out- 
wardness, how shall we find Him in His " Holy of Holies? " 
What shall hold firm our ladder of ascent? 

Verily, I distrust my unbolstered subjective mind. Once 
it found its way out, and, being whirled back violently to its 
companion-mind, the latter caught the story, and built it into 
a special brain-cell from which it has not as yet been driven 
out. This was not long ago; that is to say, it was in the 
year 1881. 

The experiences of a busy day may have impelled that mind 
to release itself from a tired body; and I admit, it may have 
carried something away as a drag, deterring it from credit- 
able exhibition of its supposable superlative powers when re- 
leased from domination of intellect. 

I had installed my direct-feed oil-burner under a bothering 
old boiler, that neither wood nor coal nor those other burners 
had induced to meet requirements. I fired up at sunrise, and 
— as the work in the yard had been much delayed — I sent the 
engineer to assist Mr. Brain at his brick-making, for the ma- 
chine was running at very high speed and all hands were 
needed to dispose of the manufactured product. Naturally, 
I looked often at my pure white fire, for my eyes love bright- 
ness. 

Now, this was close to Bradford, Pa., and, as afterwards 
appeared, an oil-well, one or two furlongs from us, had slack- 
ened its yield, — which could only be increased by means of a 
Roberts or Whitehead torpedo — taxable if used in the day- 
time. As for me, I went to sleep that night in Mr. Brain's 
brick mansion, occupying a very large chamber, well supplied 
with windows East, South and West. 

I suppose thick walls were no hindrance to the escape of 
my essential self, — which after all may have gone out by any 
window. But somehow I was out of doors about mid-night, 



34 A Psychic Autobiography 

moving slowly about, not by walking upon the ground, but 
by floating in the air, upon the West side near the house. I 
glanced around casually, seeing things very well, particularly 
a large storage shed, never noticed before, but observed with 
interest on the following day. Meanwhile the night was illu- 
mined only by stars. Fixing my attention upon them as more 
attractive than baking furnaces and piles of finished brick, 
almost at once there flashed into sight among the constella- 
tions, a mighty portent. Extending to the zenith, its hilt 
near to the horizon, its blade, toward me, appeared a flaming 
sword, in color a vivid orange-crimson. 

The essential self, as I apprehend, is incapable of fear or 
amazement. Emotions belong to that lower sphere of con- 
sciousness, which rounds out and completes that absolute en- 
tity, spoken of on earth as the human soul, — elsewhere known 
to be immortal. I was not afraid. I looked at the prodigy, 
tranquilly meditating, yet summoning whatever power I had 
of " inerrant deduction," (authoritatively declared to be a 
"divine potential " of the subjective mind), that I might solve 
that sublime mystery. And my subjective mind said unto 
me in almost these very words : 

" It is many years since I believed in that legend of the 
Garden of Eden. I do not believe in it now, but if I were 
persuaded of its truth, I should say: 'This is the flaming 
sword which turned every way and kept out Adam and Eve. 
Yet surely that sword need not have reached to the very 
stars, in order to defend the tree of life from one trembling 
man and one weeping woman. Moreover, Cherubim could 
not have handled this weapon. None but an archangel could 
put forth a hand to grasp that hilt. He would need to be as 
high as heaven. Are there such majestic beings? and will the 
one chosen to wield that sword really appear ? " I was striv- 
ing to realize what he would do, — being filled with a reverent 
sense of his power, — when the blade descended without his 
aid. All flame, it swept downward with one instantaneous 
rush and smote the corner of the house — the South-west cor- 
ner of my room. One might say, it drove me back to my 
blessed common sense, even before it struck. The force of 
the impact was that of a cutting blow, a million times multi- 
plied. I awoke! Every pane of glass belonging to every 



Childhood and the Dual Mind 35 

window in my room, and as I plainly heard, many a pane far 
through the house, was falling in fragments to the floor. My 
every-day, wise and wholly sane objective mind, said to that 
half-demented wanderer: " Nitro-glycerine ! Moonshiners!" 

All this leisurely thinking, this unalarmed apprehension of 
celestial dynamics and heaven-high potentialities, this wonder- 
ful exhibition of " intuitional knowledge " — oh, yes! and this 
" inerrant deduction," may have gone on during the one 
instant when that eighty-pound torpedo, secreted under that 
furlong-away boiler, like a crouching giant, was straightening 
out its knees for a mighty spring; or it may have occupied the 
millionth part of a second after the act and before the sensible 
effect, that gouged out the earth and sent fragments — to the 
zenith, for aught I know, since but one was found anywhere 
in that vicinity. 

I humbly acknowledge that the power of imagination pos- 
sessed by my subjective mind, has not, as yet, wildly illumined 
my verse. But, oh, its " intuitive knowledge," its " essential 
perception," its ability to " reach all legitimate inferences 
with a marvelous cogency and power." Lo ! its possession of 
these " divine potentials " cannot be denied ; for hypnotists 
have tossed their arms about, " percipients " have slumbered, 
and all has been found out — by means of common playing- 
cards ! 

Now, Heaven forfend ! — lest I be given over eternally to 
the exclusive control of my subjective mind! Let us trust 
and believe that when we pass from earth, our objective 
minds — " admitted to that equal sky " — like the Indian's 
" faithful dog," will bear us company. 



IV 

TO DREAM AND TO DESIRE 




OT for an instant would I deny the law 
of telepathy, nor deride the minutest fact 
justly cited in evidence of its reality. If 
demonstrated to exist at all, it must be rec- 
ognized, not as a mere local accidental 
force, but as a universal, eternal principle. 
Like the law of refraction, the law of gravi- 
tation, the law of elliptical orbits and the law of the ratio 
between the planetary periods and distances, it has its genesis 
in Mind. 

As the vibrations of light are propagated through cosmic 
ether, so through some medium, sublimated beyond imagina- 
tion, vibrates forever this illuminant of the soul. We hold 
up our telepathic rush-lights for guidance in dark places; we 
even kindle telepathic bon-fires, upon our hill-tops, for " Psy- 
chical Research " into crannies and crevices through which 
we cannot wedge ourselves unpinched. But let us remember 
that every star in the universe sends out sparks never wholly 
wasted through unmeasurable distances ; also, that every spir- 
itual being, embodied or disembodied (according to our man- 
ner of speech), every resident of Earth, of Mars, of every 
habitable world among all constellations, and every spirit that 
ever ascended therefrom, must perpetually contribute to life's 
perpetual effulgence. 

If this be not true, there is no law of telepathy. 
My mother's half sister, Beulah Mott, born March II, 
1788, twenty-five years earlier than herself — at the age of 
two and a half, spent an entire morning playing by running 
water, pleased with the glittering pebbles underneath. Com- 
ing in at noon, she climbed her father's knee and said sweetly: 
" Daddy, I have seen God. He says he is coming for me at 
two o'clock." " No, no ! " said my grandfather, thrilled 

36 



To Dream and to Desire 37 

with an instant's fear. " Daddy cannot lose his little Beulah ; 
she is the light of his eyes." " But he will come! " she per- 
sisted; " He said he would." After dinner she climbed his 
knee again : " Daddy, God will come for me at two 
o'clock; " and, laying her head upon his breast, she fell 
asleep. Curiously disturbed, he said to his wife, Beulah: 
" Are not her cheeks over-red? Can she be ailing? " " She 
is only warm from playing in the sun," answered the mother. 
" Lay her in the bed-room, where it is cool." Twenty min- 
utes before two, the child was laid away; twenty minutes 
after two the mother went in to look at her — and found her 
not! The promise had been fulfilled. 

Now this from Dr. Hudson, (whom I must quote a little 
farther now and then) : " Nothing can be positively known 
except the past and the present. It would require a miracle 
to give one absolutely, unconditioned knowledge of future 
events; for there is, there can be, no law of the mind that 
would make one to cognize that which does not exist." 

Something seems to have gone wrong with that " working 
hypothesis." Here is one of its postulates. " With a differ- 
ence only of degree, we find, in the soul of man, every essen- 
tial attribute of Omniscience and every power of Omnipo- 
tence." 

The inference is inevitable: There is no law of the mind 
of God enabling Him to " cognize that which does not exist." 

Beulah — loveliest of little ones — did not prophesy; but the 
being — finite we must presume — who presented himself in 
visible guise before her spiritual vision, first perceived a con- 
dition, then sent a radiant thought into the future, and took 
cognizance of one moment of time that — did not exist! 

At long intervals, years lying between, my practical and 
logical-minded mother would say, " I had a prophetic dream 
last night;" and the future failed not to justify that state- 
ment. One of these dreams, frequently related by her, im- 
pressed my young mind the more because of the picture-creat- 
ing effect of her recital. 

" I dreamed that I was in Oriskany, standing by Mr. Ben- 
nett's gate, and looking over into his yard. I was surprised 
to see two fine trees growing near the house; I said, ' I never 
noticed those before.' They were beautiful trees, tall, slen- 



38 A Psychic Autobiography 

der, exactly alike in appearance — equally green and thrifty. 
As I stood admiring them, I discovered that both were on 
fire at the top. ' Now that,' I said, ' is out of Nature. Such 
a thing could not be. They are not real trees but symbols. 
What do they signify? ' Then someone behind me answered : 
' You are right. They are only symbols. Two young men, 
who are believed to be in perfect health, are just going into 
quick consumption and will die within two months.' " 

In relating her dream the following day, my mother added : 
— " It can have but one meaning. Mr. Bennett's two sons 
— tall and handsome twins — were typified by the twin trees. 
They will die at the time predicted." 

Not many months later, some chance traveler from the dis- 
tant village of Oriskany dropped in and related, as a marvel, 
the swift progress of a consumption which had carried off 
Mr. Bennett's twin sons, within a few days of each other, 
and in less than two months after the date of my mother's 
dream. 

Now it matters nothing to this argument concerning fore- 
knowledge, whether Beulah's transcendent visitor or my 
mother's unseen interpreter of symbols, may have been the 
mind of any " living person " or of a soul released, — although 
it would seem that the latter would be better able to control 
and direct its " divine potentials." Someone was able to dart 
forward and take cognizance of a time non-existent save in 
the prescient Mind of Deity. Should this power belong to 
us, it will at times reveal itself, — a final proof above all proofs 
of our essential oneness with the Godhead, and consequent 
immortality. 

If therefore I descend into the mind of childhood in search 
of this spiritual potency, and can but dream I find it there, I 
shall be justified in carrying on the quest well beyond my 
three score years and twelve. 

It will be remembered that I was the junior, by two years, 
of a brother, who, at the age of fifteen, in the school-room, 
and in my presence, was snatched away by death. Shortly 
before my eleventh birthday, while as yet no human being was 
aware of his danger, I " fell on sleep " and this is what I 
dreamed : 

Lester and I were walking, hand in hand, upon a lonely 






To Dream and to Desire 39 

road. At my right, all the way along, ran the edge of a sheer 
precipice. At his left was a dense, dark forest. " Lester," I 
asked him, " why do you keep looking into that wood ? " He 
answered : " Someone is there who has followed me a long 
time. He is following me now. I can never escape from 
him. When he comes to take me I must go. He is not like 
anyone else — he is half white and half black." 

" You shall not walk on that side of the road," I said. 
" Change places with me and then he will not see you." " I 
will change places," assented Lester, " because he is not fol- 
lowing you. He does not want you now. You are safe." 

So we walked on, tightly clasping hands, I, upon the forest 
side, intently looking into the deep shade and imagining I 
caught glimpses now and then of a black and white face, far 
back. After a time we emerged from this road, climbed a 
low hill and sat down where there was nothing to see but the 
fallen trunks of trees, mostly very old and mossy. Lester left 
me and walked among them, bending down as though looking 
for something underneath. 

"What are you looking for?" I asked, vaguely troubled. 
He sighed deeply: " Poor Mary! " 

" What is the matter with cousin Mary? " 

" She is lying here, under these logs and she is quite dead. 
She had a very bad back and it made her suffer a great deal. 
She was sick all through, but she lived more than thirty 
years." 

With this I burst into sobs, — a strange thing for me, 
though I but slept. So my brother came and sat down by 
me, putting his arm around me and saying tenderly : " Don't 
cry." " Let us go back," I urged ; and, rising we returned 
along the lonely road. I, putting him at my left next to the 
precipice and clasping his hand very tightly, began looking 
again for that black and white one in the woods. Then " in 
the twinkling of an eye," my brother was snatched from me, 
and though I whirled about to save him, I caught but a single 
glimpse as he went down out of sight. Thereafter I walked 
on and on and on — save at whiles when I sank from weak- 
ness, but still crept on ; until, after a lapse into unconscious- 
ness, I seemed to be in my own home again. But I said, " I 
will not tell my mother." Nor did I, asleep or awake. 



40 A Psychic Autobiography 

If it be true, as learned Psychists claim — as Dr. Hudson 
strongly avers — that the essential self in man has some means 
of discovering danger to the physical structure, and, without 
informing the lower or objective consciousness, is able to pre- 
dict death or to protect from accident, something may be 
said here in support of that statement. 

My brother, not yet thirteen years old, was delicate, but 
his lack of strength had as yet excited no alarm. In the deep 
sleep of midnight, his half-emergent spirit may have realized 
bodily peril and telepathically — if it must be so expressed — 
imparted disturbance to mine. Actual prophecy of certain 
and sudden death was thinly veiled under such similitudes as 
might suggest themselves to a childish mind, bent upon giving 
out unhappy tidings, with tender caution. A fine-spun the- 
ory, perhaps not wholly untenable. Nevertheless, what can 
be said of the interjected story of Cousin Mary? For in 
very truth, two years after my brother's death, a cruel fall 
resulted in such injury to the spine, that, although she left 
her bed after many weeks, she was never again well — and 
about thirty-seven years later, sank under a complication of 
diseases and so passed away. 

Now, although I had been furnished with a key for unlock- 
ing Paradisal doors, I had not tried it in these three inter- 
vening years. I desired no gifts worth praying for. I had 
no task but study, and that was pastime; no occupation but 
the occasional building of a play-house, with Lester's help; 
no trouble but the hateful behavior to me of one pretty little 
girl, which he and not I, bitterly resented. Half the time I 
spent alone in roaming. When I was in a mood for prayer, 
it was usually below the " Twenty's " thirty-foot waterfall 
and beside a broad rock, printed I thought (but how could 
that be?), with the foot of some gigantic animal. There I 
thought of God and Heaven, and of angels who sometimes 
brought infants down at sunrise, and sometimes took them 
away, as they had taken our Mary Sophia; and I solemnly 
wanted to be good, and was aware that it would be hard 
work. Ah, me! It has been main hard! 

After that we removed to Black Rock, a suburb of Buffalo, 
and I became my mother's household assistant. As for Les- 
ter, he begged so hard (at thirteen) to be put in the way of 



To Dream and to Desire 41 

learning to be a doctor, that my parents took him to the 
ablest in Buffalo — Dr. Bissell, whom they knew. Only an 
office boy, yet with a full medical library thrown open to 
him, he spent all his spare time in study. His patron, won- 
dering at his mental grasp, said : " There is nothing that 
Johnny may not read," — calling the lad by that first name, 
which he had vainly besought us to use at home. After a 
year of this, Father and Mother were sent for, and Dr. Bis- 
sell, in their presence, examined him, saying, with actual tears 
(for he loved the boy), " Johnny, I know that you will not 
be afraid of the truth. Maybe you will live a long time, but 
you may go at any moment." So Lester came home, laughed, 
whistled, played with the baby, returned to school, and only 
required that none of his brothers and sisters should be told. 

When all was over, and I had dwelt in the shadow perhaps 
a year — in my sleep, like a night-blooming cereus, there 
opened out another dream. 

This time I was walking across a very bare common, and 
I was alone. Presently, down a dark opening, I went under- 
ground. First I passed along a passage, dimly lighted from 
above. Then I entered a room, through a door which swung 
open to admit me. I stood all amazed, for there were flowers 
upon flowers, chiefly white, banked against the four walls, 
massed, with down-looking faces, upon the ceiling; and only 
the floor near me was without them. I had never seen a hot- 
house flower, but the forms of some of these I dimly remem- 
bered the next day. They might have been camelias, glox- 
inias, orchids or other exotics not unfamiliar to me now. I 
said : " How wonderful it is to see all these growing, with- 
out sunlight, underground ! " And then, after my mother's 
way in dreams — I asked: " What can it mean? " 

A voice behind me answered, clear as the ringing of a 
silver bell: "These are the flowers that you are going to 
plant." 

I turned, passed out of the door, and on, into a dim open 
space. There I saw trees; not very many but of good size 
and tall. "This," I cried out, "is more wonderful still! 
Flowers might possibly be grown underground, but not trees, 
surely. What can this mean ? " And the same voice inter-, 
preted : " These are the trees that you are going to plant." 



42 A Psychic Autobiography 

Thereafter I was sensible of being comforted. 
From the date of our removal to Black Rock, one desire 
had been stirring in secret 

" Like the sap 



In still March branches, signless as a stone." 

I wanted religion. Was I not old enough? Lester had 
united with the church at nine, and I well remembered how 
he would rise in meeting and, in a low voice, humbly and rev- 
erently tell that he felt the presence of the Holy Spirit in 
his heart; and how grown men — class leaders — would say: 
" This boy shames us all, he has so clear a comprehension of 
the plan of salvation! " Poor boy! 

I cared nothing for the deep theological works, more ac- 
cessible to children then than now, which he read and re-read 
with avidity. I passed by even the histories which he drew 
from the not insignificant " upper village " library, although 
Willie and Bennie would lie awake for hours while he told 
them of great battles, how they were planned, and why they 
were won or lost; — till we thought the boy was born to be 
a soldier. Meantime — my Milton and Pollock days having 
burned themselves out — I thrilled to " The Red Fisherman " 
or dropped far below Praed and read " Fannie Campbell ; 
the Female Pirate Captain," quite comfortably (not a drop of 
poison in it!). 

And now, all that gone by, and I in training to be a 
teacher, — at thirteen I longed to be " saved." Not saved 
from Hell, for I was the child of my father, who strove to 
keep step with Methodists, yet doubted whether those eternal 
doors would ever close upon a lost soul; nor yet from sin, 
which did not weigh me down with " conviction," I think 
rather from myself. I was so tired of me, my heart seemed 
breaking. If God would only lift me up and love me, what 
law of His could I ever disobey? And I should be so white! 

So, one night, when the church was crowded because the 
minister had announced that there would be revival services, 
I answered to the third and last invitation: 

" Come ye sinners, poor and needy." 



To Dream and to Desire 43 

Hating the publicity, yet forced on by bitter need, shaken 
with uncontrollable sobs, I took my place to be prayed for, — ■ 
the only " mourner " on the bench. 

"Let us pray," said the would-be revivalist; " O, Lord, 
we have called upon dying sinners to come and partake of the 
riches of Thy grace, — but no one has come! " On went the 
prayer and still the voice affirmed, four times over : " No 
one has come." I was no longer weeping. I heard a sibi- 
lant utterance that broke in upon the sudden silence, after 
" Father Graham " had clutched the minister's arm and 
brought him to a stand-still. Then the raucous tones began 
again : " O, Lord, there has one little girl come, but we're 
afraid she doesn't know what she's come for." 

With the " amen " of the benediction yet in my ears, I 
passed through the crowd, which seemed to divide itself be- 
fore me, went home with speed, got into my bed, and, draw- 
ing the covering over my head, with the utmost vehemence 
possible to a whisperer, I — added to my vocabulary, a single, 
wicked word. Let it remain unwritten. 

Now the three years that followed after, were as Pharaoh's 
lean kine ; and there was famine in Egypt ! 



SUBJECTIVE VISIONS 




INDING our way as best we can through- 
out the secret chambers of this Mammoth 
Cave into which this supposed Psychist has 
led us, we come, at last, to the edge of its 
deepest pit, — that " bottomless pit " from 
which hands — indubitably friendly — have 
waved us away. Listen once again to wise 
and warning words, meant to set us trembling in the presence 
of appalling danger, and to urge us back to the safety of 
those halls where stalactites (in lieu of stars) fret the vaulted 
ceiling: — 

" To believe in the reality of subjective visions, is to give 
the subjective mind control of the dual mental organization ; 
and, to give the subjective mind such control, is for Reason to 

abdicate her throne The result, in its mildest form of 

manifestation, is a mind filled with the grossest superstition, 
— a mind, which, like the untutored mind of the savage, 
' Sees God in clouds or hears Him in the wind.' Its ultimate 
form is insanity." 

I once observed a stalwart Irishman, who was standing 
near a chance group of singers at a camp-meeting. With in- 
tent, uplifted eyes he had been joining in their melodious wor- 
ship ; but the rich baritone broke off, and I saw his face grow 
white and luminous as if a great light were shining thereon. 
In an instant, as though he had been struck backward by a 
mighty hand, he fell all his length upon the sward. Very 
soon he opened his eyes, uplifted himself and said, amazedly, 
with bated breath : — " I saw him."" 

Something very like this, happened to Saint Paul, — causing 
" Reason to abdicate her throne." 

At this camp-meeting, now fifty-four years gone by, I saw 
that lovely-minded Abraham Castle, and heard him pleading 

44 



Subjective Visions 45 

with an Insufferable dandy, who stroked his mustache, twirled 
his rattan cane, and sneered. " O, Henry, won't you come! 
won't you come! " and all the while his streaming eyes at- 
tested his unutterable love and sorrow. Now, when next 
day I saw him deep in trance, — being there myself to study 
Psychic Phenomena under an earlier name — I must needs 
keep near and gather all the story. Much I must omit, but 
this, at least, I may transcribe, without wronging the sense; 
all this and more, he told in open meeting, I listening with the 
rest. 

" I was with my father ! ' Abraham,' he said, ' I have 
something to show you. Look at this broad and shining sea. 
It seems to touch no shore but this. See this beautiful white 
ship lying at anchor, with all her sails set for the voyage ; and 
watch the multitudes that come from all directions. They 
cross the gang-plank, they crowd the deck, but no matter how 
many come, there is always room.' 

" What vessel is it, father, and to what port is it bound ? " 

" ' It is a great ship built to carry souls over safely to the 
Heavenly shore. Question me further, my son ? ' 

" Father, will it be lawful to ask if my wife, Sarah, will 
be there? 

" ' It is lawful to ask. Sarah will be there.' 

"And Robert? And Mary? And Elizabeth? And 
Martin ? 

" ' They will be there.' 

" And O, Father, Father, Will Henry be there? 

" ' My son, Henry will be there.' 

" ' Abraham, have you nothing more to ask, before you go 
back." 

" Father, God has called me to preach ; but Sarah cannot 
consent. He has not called her to be the wife of an itinerant. 
I have no right to drag her with me ; I cannot leave her be- 
hind. What shall I say to her, so that she may be willing to 
let me obey the call ? " 

" ' My son, return to the body. Sarah is in the smallest 
tent of all. Find her; she is calling for you. She will tell 
you that you may go and preach.' " 

Up rose Abraham Castle, trembling in every limb. Three 
men, by his request, and under his direction, went with him 



46 A Psychic Autobiography 

and sought out that little tent. Before they could lift the 
canvas they heard a voice : — " Praise the Lord ! Do, some 
one, go and get Abraham! Where is Abraham? " — and as 
they drew him in, Sarah, newly emerged from her trance, 
cried out rapturously: " O, Abraham, you may go and 
preach now! " — And that was just what he had told them 
she would say; to which they testified. Because of this, one 
more Evangelist, yielded himself to the control of his sub- 
jective mind, and in the Name of the Most High, went out 
to save the souls of men. Once again was illustrated that 
supreme danger which attends upon those who " believe in 
the reality of subjective visions." 

At that very camp-meeting came " Happy John," bounding 
in among us as one immortally young — albeit, maybe, fifty. 
For twelve joyous years he had been kept in exaltation be- 
cause of a subjective experience that had lifted him instanta- 
neously and forever out of the gutters of the streets of 
Rochester, where he had long time wallowed. No one im- 
agined that he was insane; but if to " see God in clouds and 
hear Him in the wind " be " grossest superstition," I fear 
he was no better than an " untutored savage." However, 
Dr. Hudson found God in the moneron ; and I myself, at the 
tender age of four (little pagan) saw Him in a Turk's-cap 
lily. 

My father, who married at thirty a girl not sixteen, never 
dreaming, perhaps, that she might not absorb his prejudices, 
three years later came home after a few weeks' absence, to 
find her all astray among the Methodists. He would not 
hold her back, but after he had gone with her to a number of 
meetings, he broke down and said : " Mary, we have been 
altogether happy; but now that you are going off with those 
wild Methodists, all sympathy between us is at an end. Our 
happiness is wrecked." Forth-right he went away into the 
woods where he remained fasting, nearly two days. Return- 
ing he found my mother upon her knees and fell down by her 
side. Instantly he was filled with an ineffable spiritual bless- 
ing, that caused him to " walk softly " all the days of his 
mortal life. 

If this was not an actual " subjective vision," that kind 
came later, during a long search after " holiness of heart " 



Subjective Visions 4? 

in which my mother joined. Did the children of two so 
evidently under the control of the subjective mind, suffer by 
inheritance, live in " gross superstition," wander away into 
insanity ? — absolutely, No ! 

On All Saints' Eve, October 31, 15 17, Martin Luther 
nailed a paper to the door of a church in Wittenberg, on 
which ninety-five theses were written denouncing papal in- 
dulgences. That night, in his capital a hundred miles away, 
dreamed Frederick, Elector of Saxony! He stood near the 
castle church in Wittenberg, and saw a monk writing upon 
the door. Now the quill wherewith the monk wrote was so 
long that its point reached to Rome and roused a lion 
crouching within the city ; again, as he wrote, the point struck 
the tiara of Pope Leo, the tenth, so that it rocked upon his 
head and the cardinals all rushed to hold it steady, that it 
might not fall. The dreaming Frederick was appalled and 
would have hurried to arrest the monk and stop the move- 
ment of his pen ; but, filling all the sky on a sudden, was an 
innumerable host of shining ones, who cried: — " Stop not the 
monk! His writing is of God/' And because Frederick 
" believed in the reality of his subjective vision," Martin 
Luther was not murdered nor the great Reformation 
stemmed from sweeping clean the roads by which men travel 
to their God. 

Let us re-write the script: — To give the objective mind 
control of the dual mental organization, is for Religion to 
abdicate her throne, Honor, Truth and Purity to perish by 
the way-side, blessed Charity to flee the haunts of men, rivers 
to run thick with innocent blood and ravage and rapine to 
devastate the Earth. 

But as for my subjective mind, it began striving for its 
own. Teaching my second winter school at sixteen, I had 
become so much of a personage, that when I started afresh, 
and went to a Christian altar for prayers, in response to that 
solemn exhortation : — 

" Come ye sinners poor and needy," 

shoutings welcomed my approach. I had no tears to shed, — ■ 
was conscious of no griefs requiring alleviation. One chief 



48 A Psychic Autobiography 

thought was in my mind. I was a child of Eternity; I must 
enter upon my heritage. The shoutings moved me not at all. 
I am not a good Mesmeric subject; I have been tried and 
could not be made unconscious. The emotions, thrilling 
around me, did not thrill me. I was not to be hypnotized 
into the kingdom. The matter was altogether between God 
and myself. 

Nevertheless I " went forward " as often as any one in 
my school-district would take me all that four miles through 
the cold. I strove to avail myself of the " means of Grace." 
I was instructed that I must realize my exceeding sinfulness. 
I tried, but could not quite make a mountain of what seemed 
a mole-hill. Exhorters said I was in danger of hell-fire. 
After a time — God taking no notice of me it seemed — I was 
too humbled to dispute that proposition. But, above all, I 
was to remember that Christ died to appease an offended 
God. I must rely upon him. There was no other way. 

After some weeks, dismissing my scholars one night as 
usual, I locked myself within and said : " I will not leave 
till I am blest! " 

Oh, I was a sinner! Over and over again, when I was 
little, I had falsified about my knitting work — ten times 
around instead of eight! Yet I had hated the lying! I 
summed up all the wickedness I could remember, and then 
mourned: " For these sins Christ died." Oh, the agony of 
trying to realize his sufferings! Worst of all, the injustice 
of it! Christ to endure all of that just because of me! 

Hours passed on. My fire, built of rotten wood, was ut- 
terly out ; the night was bitterly cold. 

Some unseen power seemed to drive me away. I put on 
my things, went to my boarding-place, crept late to bed and 
— chilled into indifference — said: " I did not keep my vow. 
I suppose I shall never be blest." 

Nevertheless, I rode to church the following evening, and, 
because I must, went to the " mourners' bench " as before. 
I think the friends were a little tired of me, and I was more 
than a little tired of them. It was as if I were at some 
neutral point of polarization, where there is no light. So 
home again to my district. 

I left the sleigh, ran into the house and passed through the 



Subjective Visions 49 

warm family room and the cold parlor to my bed room. I 
had not even provided myself with a candle, intending to re- 
turn at once. I took off my quilted hood and heavy cloak, 
laid them on the bed and paused a moment to say, hopelessly, 
but without any special poignancy of feeling: ''There is 
nothing for me. There is something for every one but me." 

Instantly from above, I was answered : " There is some- 
thing for you!" I fell upon my knees, lifted my blind eyes 
and waited. Nothing came. I arose and went into the par- 
lor, moving forward toward the living-room beyond. And 
now with strong insistence, came the startling word: 
" There is something for you now! " 

A little moon-light, filtering through the windows, showed 
me a chair, set between them. I crossed over and once more 
sank upon my knees. 

In one second, through all my physical frame, it seemed 
there swept a rushing wind. It bore me out, — it left me 
standing beside my brother Lester. Two others, dimly dis- 
cerned, as though they kept in shadow — tall men they seemed 
to be — stood on either hand. Upon Lester I centered my 
mind. There was no amazement, no perturbation. Neither 
of us, by word or gesture expressed any of that surface-joy 
in reunion that we mortals exhibit in greeting long-absent 
friends. We stood close together and I was content. Then, 
by a movement, he seemed to desire that I should look up- 
ward. This I did, not looking upon him further at that time. 
We were all rising through space. We were nearing the 
stars. They were no longer stars, but great, whirling suns, 
effulgent, — yet I was able to look upon them. I saw one far 
beyond all others in glory, and I said (remembering Dr. 
Thomas Dick's suggestion), "That may be the central sun, 
where God resides, and from which He governs His Uni- 
verse. Yet He is also everywhere." And my soul was filled 
with a sense of the power and majesty of the Deity. 

Lester, now on my left hand, who had at first seemed to 
be on the right, laid his hand upon my arm : " Sister " — 
speaking for the first time, — " Sister, look away to the left." 

I turned, and, afar off, there was a great darkness. 
" That is Chaos," I thought, and wondered. Then I saw a 
sun, undiminished in splendor, not swerving from its orbit, 



50 A Psychic Autobiography 

roll in and utterly disappear. " It has become," I thought, 
" a part of Chaos. It does not exist. Was it ground to 
powder? It could not have been burned!" Then for the 
first time I thrilled as with fear: " If that is the way they 
are brought to an end, it will be so with our earth." And I 
imagined it rolling in. 

Still intently looking, I saw the sun roll out, even more 
splendid than before, and still true to its orbit. And now 
did Lester say what, word for word, I have remembered to 
this day: — 

" Sister, the law that keeps all these suns rolling in their 
places, governs them just as well when they are in the dark 
as when they are in the light. As no star can ever escape the 
influence of that law, so no soul can ever move so far away 
from God, that He will not surely draw it back into His 
marvelous light. And now, sister, as you go back to the 
body, remember this: Never believe anything of God that 
seems to you unjust." 

There was nothing more, I had returned. 

One, having had a stroke of catalepsy, never stirs — remains 
rigid. But I had fallen over upon the chair and my hands 
on either side touched the carpet. I arose, a little trembling, 
moved about and seemed to myself all enveloped in God's 
Love, one happy soul in a universe of happy souls. 

Soon after, riding with my father on the way to my school, 
I said all I dared say: " Father, I have had a very wonder- 
ful, very beautiful experience." 

Without questioning me, he answered : " Daughter, that 
is only the first flower of a tree that will be full of blossoms. 
There have been years of my life, when every day and all 
days I could have said, ' Peace is flowing as a river.' " 

O, sweet, remembered prophecy fulfilled! 
O, happy child, to have been so blest in daughterhood ! 



VI 



MIND SUBMERGENCE AND PSYCHIC REVELA- 
TIONS 




ARDON me if I delay narration for the 
moment. I am aware that my experience 
will need a reconciling touch with some of 
you. No one as yet, I apprehend, has ven- 
tured quite so far as I am venturing in my 
revealments. Friends may naturally say: 
A poet will unconsciously embellish here 
and there, — or, being old, forget to be exact." But Psychists 
claim that the subjective mind " never forgets;" and I have 
reason to be certain they are right. 

A Psychic vision is an etching that can not be effaced ; nor 
can it be re-touched without the graving tool, which none of 
us possess. A Psychic message might reverberate down all 
the steeps of time, and not a word be altered by the echoes. 
If you pick a flower, why, there it is ! You did not spread a 
leaf nor tint a petal. As for my floral offerings, you must 
take them as I give them, even though you cast them down as 
having little worth ; there is no " art that, in their piedness, 
imitates great Nature." 

When Harriet Martineau (a power behind the people and 
the throne!) became an advocate of Mesmerism as a curative 
agency, ungrateful England laughed from Falmouth to the 
Tweed. She had been " prisoner to her couch " five years 
and had arisen by Mesmeric means, a healed and happy 
woman. What then? There was the more to laugh at, so 
they laughed the more. But she went further still, reporting 
as she went. In healing her sick waiting-maid, she came 
upon the fact that even a mind but little educated, being sub- 
merged, might manifest unlooked for attributes, — might for 
example, prophesy. She had not learned, or did not practise, 
those Mesmeric tricks that lecturers exhibit to make audiences 



51 



52 A Psychic Autobiography 

laugh ("admission twenty cents"). The sleeper, half re- 
leased, was left to find her own way through the dark, unin- 
fluenced by " suggestion." It was not Harriet Martineau 
who prophesied, but just that simple girl, her waiting-maid! 

And now the laugh became a jeer; mere criticism merged 
in persecution. The family her labors had enriched, de- 
nounced her openly. Her " liberal " brother — ablest of the 
Unitarians, did not forgive her to his dying day. She might 
hav said with Mrs. Browning's penitent: 

" God, over my head, 

Must sweep in the wrath of His Judgment seas, 
If He shall deal with me, sinning, but only indeed the same 
And no gentler than these: " 

albeit she had not sinned. And I, who have not suffered 
persecution (since I am not great), feel the need of an appeal 
to courage while I propose to add my modicum of knowledge 
to her one discovery. Since her day — since my own in fact — 
there have been Scientists who have exalted truth, — Crookes, 
Myers, James, Hodgson, Hyslop and the rest. Wilson from 
a fossil bone could re-construct a bird ; Huxley could show 
a man emergent from a plasmic cell; but these discern the 
man emergent from the flesh, — deathless as God Himself. I 
have not been their pupil; — much of my life has antedated 
theirs, and I have taken just what came to me with little 
thought of " Science " in the abstract. Do we think of oxy- 
gen and hydrogen when we are drinking at the rock of 
Horeb? The wonder is to me how Harriet Martineau 
could find the prophet in the sleeper, and fail to understand 
that only an immortal entity could have immortal sight. She 
thought she thought that Death " blows out " our individual 
lights — we being mere candles taken out of doors and caught 
in mighty winds! Yet all the time, no doubt, belief hid 
smiling in the shadow of that unbelief. 

When Andrew Falconer's mother, by whose terrific creed 
her son had been " eleckit to damnation," saw him standing, 
saved and sane, before her dying eyes (so runs MacDonald's 
story), she laughed and sobbed aloud: " O, Lord! I knew 



Mind Submergence and Psychic Revelations 53 

it all the time ! " Let us think of Harriet Martineau and 
Marian Evans Lewes (no less great, and equally at fault) as 
waking from the trance of Death with that same jubilant cry! 

One of the attributes of God is self-existence, — " life in- 
herent, underived." We are not " derived " from Him, but 
He inheres in us. We have this attribute with all the rest. 
Eternal life would be eternal loneliness without the power 
of interchange between the self-existent. The Infinite^ in- 
herent in the finite, wins for Himself companionship, gives 
and receives, loves and is loved — moving within us to the 
end that we may love Him and may love each other, to our 
own perpetual aggrandizement ; also to His delight. Herein 
is ample warrant for belief in spirit-intercourse ! 

Mere belief however is not operative. Each one of us 
must have a personal revelation. Little use to cry " Lo, 
here!" " Lo, there!" and hunt up "mediums," — or follow 
hypnotizers ! 

Still it appears that Mesmerism, or its variant Hypnotism, 
is a sort of postern gate to this King's castle of the human 
soul. Not by any means the royal entrance; — it may give 
admission to the court-yard very likely — never to the throne- 
room or the citadel. But, to drop the metaphor, we may 
admit its therapeutic value; and if a mind, submerged, were 
let alone, not subject to " suggestion," who can tell upon 
what voyage of discovery it might embark? It has been 
claimed that should the Hypnotizer waive his privilege in 
favor of a " disembodied " spirit, — so giving him possession 
of the subject, — much could be revealed. Perhaps it may be 
so. Never having been a " subject " or an " agent," I have 
learned the most I know about the lesser hypnotism from the 
books of Dr. Thomson Hudson, which are much in vogue. 
No one is so popular as he among the masses ; and he disputes 
the possibility, or actuality rather, of communion with the 
so-called Dead. Although he is certain of a " spirit-realm," 
he labors to expunge it from the reckoning. I am told that 
he succeeds so well in this, many have been made unbelievers 
in a future life, by his recorded investigations and opinions 
based upon discovered " psychic facts " — such as he chanced 
upon (poor stumbler!) as he ran, — bearing his pack of cards! 

But note his attitude : He was convinced beforehand that 



54 A Psychic Autobiography 

his "hypothesis," already formulated (the "facts" not yet 
in evidence!) would disprove spirit-intercourse. 

Now minds, submerged by his hypnotic influence, he states, 
were altogether " amenable to control " by his suggestion. 
Accordingly not one of them could see beyond his own dense 
atmosphere. They saw what he required of them, if possible 
— whether the furniture in his far off library, or a king of 
clubs near by! He made "percipients" do much drudgery 
for his behoof, and was delighted and amazed to find how 
much they knew — after they had been told! They spoke 
their little pieces very well. 

As for his " facts " no one denies them. They belong to 
lower Psychic states. From higher Psychic states his crass, 
cock-sure opinions shut him out completely. 

Not the less, a fact is but one point in the continuous line 
that stretches either way, even to infinity. If it be a fact that 
one mind can approach another by this hypnotic road, that is 
but one of facts innumerable. That same route may be 
traveled by all souls, whether in Heaven above, on earth be- 
low, throughout the habitable stars, or in the nether hells. 

But is this Hypnotism the only " Highway of the Lord? " 
Reason forbids the thought. When two friends meet upon 
the street, shake hands, converse by interchange of words, or 
glances which convey far more than words, or mind-pulsa- 
tions which convey far more than either, we cannot say that 
one has hypnotized the other. Mental submergence is not 
necessary to celestial converse. If it were, what use? Noth- 
ing would be remembered. Obviously we have a right to see 
and hear and know and not forget, if there be any law per- 
mitting consciousness. 

Which one of us is not aware at times, of spirit visitants, 
— being alone and dominated by the higher thought, — or even 
at our lowest, when we sink and need them most. 

A spirit-mother passed through atmospheres so foul that I 
could scarcely breathe therein, who followed not long after. 
So standing all revealed before her errant daughter, and, call- 
ing her by that dear household name none in the place had 
ever learned, she said: " Arbie! What are you doing here? " 
And Arbie did not eat or sleep for many hours. So, when 
the door was open for escape, she caught my hand as one in 



Mind Submergence and Psychic Revelations 55 

desperate need, and came away — a soul sweet-saved forever. 
We cannot burrow in so deep that beatific souls will not de- 
scend and find us, first or last. 

But this is the " domain of superstition," Hudson says. 
Well, be it so! Make haste and pull down every way-side 
cross, lest some poor wanderer kneel in hope of resurrection ! 
But have a care! As Mrs. Browning cries: — 

" Here's God down on us! What are you about? " 

I have told you of an hour in early life when my own 
mind was in submergence — by no human means; then I be- 
came an entity disburdened of mortality. To claim that 
those who made me see, (invisible sleep-inducers), were the 
subjective minds of " living persons," acting independently of 
outward consciousness, would be illogical, beyond the wildest 
dream. To pretend that, I, myself, did hypnotize myself and 
practice on myself a spiritual fraud, would be to credit me 
with powers for wickedness akin to those of Milton's Lucifer. 

Now they who caused the slumber, set me no slavish tasks, 
after the manner of our mortal hypnotists. They left me 
free to think my very thoughts. Mindful of tender hearts, 
two kept themselves aloof, that one who loved me — whom I 
knew and loved — might show to me how Infinite Mercy gov- 
erns all. They brought me back, all faulty as before, yet saved 
from blind belief in daunting creeds. They left me at the 
foot of God's eternal hills, with roses in my hands and sun- 
light in my soul — looking up and pondering what rocky path 
to choose for my ascent. 

Whenever, in these further revelations, I shall say: " I 
saw," let that be understood as a "subjective vision." When 
I shall say, " I was aware," that will imply subjective con- 
sciousness. To illustrate the latter phase: I entered once a 
Boston depot, and found my mind confronted with a vivid 
thought of Dr. Alicia Carey, who during ten years had been 
remembered seldom if at all. The thought became a singular 
consciousness of her. I walked into the long sitting-room, 
with my eyes cast down, intent upon her personality. At the 
further end, I paused, looked up, reached out my hand and 
touched — Alicia Carey. 

This is what it means to be " aware," — quite different 
from telepathy or word-and-thought transference. She had 



56 A Psychic Autobiography 

been my physician before removing to a Southern state; I 
was still sensitive to her aura; and yet there was no inter- 
change of thought till we shook hands and spoke. / was 
" aware " — not she. 

My winter school of 1852 being ended, and my summer 
school late in beginning, I went a-visiting. First, I sought 
out Mrs. Lowell in Buffalo, with whom I had made my 
home, while at an " up-town " school. I found her lying 
upon her bed, all other furniture being gone, for it was 
moving-day. She presently said very sweetly: " I hear 
you have become a Methodist." I answered " No ! I have 
experienced religion ; " for I knew not how to answer other- 
wise. "And have you heard that we are Spiritualists?" 
" Yes ; but what is it to be a Spiritualist ? " 

Mrs. Lowell — lately a consistent Baptist — was an intel- 
lectual woman of such dignity and moral worth, as well as 
grace of manner and beauty of appearance, that I revered 
and loved her most sincerely. I could not fail to give her 
words much weight. As a patient in Fredonia Water Cure, 
she had become convinced of spirit-intercourse by most un- 
usual tests. I heard her story without disbelief, but finally 
I questioned: " Do you believe in Christ? " " He was Di- 
vine," she answered, " being filled with the Holy Spirit in 
full measure, as a man ; — One with the Father by submission 
to His will. He wrought by inspiration; but can a mortal 
frame contain One who is Infinite and fills the Universe? 
Assuredly he was not God." 

I arose to go. " I beg that you will visit me," she urged. 
" We are removing to a small brick cottage, Franklin Street. 
It stands a little back. You will see the number, 91, in gilt 
letters on the corner." 

During a long walk that followed, I meditated deeply: 
" It seems to be my disposition to throw away beliefs. All 
my life I have heard that there's a personal devil; also that 
there's a hell. I believe in neither. But one must stop 
somewhere. I will stop right here. I will not doubt the 
Deity of Christ. If I should doubt, the next thing I might 
say would be perhaps: 'There is no God.' I will never 
visit Mrs. Lowell again. Much as I love her, I will cast her 
off, before I cast off Christ ! " 



Mind Submergence and Psychic Revelations 57 

Two weeks later, I set out to walk from Black Rock's 
lower village, up long Niagara Street, four miles to Main. 
That I could stray therefrom and lose my way, would have 
seemed unthinkable; and yet, absorbed in thought, I lost it. 
Looking up at last I found myself where I had never been 
before. Over and over I inquired my way and then forgot 
directions. Finally I gave up asking and just walked. At 
last I sat down on a raised sidewalk and declared : " I'll go 
no further. I'll step into some house and beg for leave to 
rest." I rose, opened a gate just at my hand, looked up, 
saw 91 upon the corner of a brick cottage, heard a cry of 
joy within, and while I stood poised for flight, was clasped 
by little Emma Lowell, who drew me on into the house. 

Her mother rose to greet me, saying, "I am so glad you 
have come just at this moment. Here is Mrs. Warwick, 
whom I met for the first time last night ! She is an excellent 
clairvoyant! Please listen to our talk." 

I listened, conscious of antagonism, and mentally combat- 
ting every word that Mrs. Warwick uttered. But presently 
my mood softened, for I became " aware " of Lester, so close 
it seemed as though he might be heard to breathe. " Lester," 
I questioned mentally: " Do you want me to investigate 
Spiritualism? If so, communicate with me through Mrs. 
Warwick. Unless you do I will never look into it further ; " 
and he answered, to my certain understanding: " Sister, you 
shall have a communication from me before you go." 

I arose almost at once. " I shall lose the stage to Aurora, 
if I do not leave immediately, I am afraid." 

" Lose it," said Mrs. Lowell ; " stay and see if something 
cannot be obtained for you." 

We sat down at a heavy, mahogany card-table, the square 
top of which folded double on hinges — I at the side, the two 
ladies at either end — sitting far back that I might see they 
used no lifting power. The table rose, rocked with violence, 
and settled over upon me. I said in my mind : "I do not 
want table-tippings." At once it lifted itself and sank back 
to its level, while Mrs. Warwick's hand began to move. 
We provided paper and pencil, and, with great rapidity, there 
was written a message beginning: " Dear Sister," and ex- 
pressing in different words from those within my mind, a 



58 A Psychic Autobiography 

desire that I should understand his happiness and believe 
that he could visit me. This was signed, " John." 

Mrs. Lowell colored deeply: " That was not her brother's 
name." But I, laying the sheet again before Mrs. Warwick, 
asked mentally: "Why did you sign your name John?" 
Instantly the answer came: "You know, Sister, I always 
preferred that name." I asked but one more question and 
that mentally: " Can I be influenced to write, in this way? " 
" I think you will, pretty soon " — written almost before I 
had formulated the words in my mind. I thought: " In 
that case I will investigate through no one but myself." 

That evening my mother and I examined an old copy- 
book, inscribed " The property of John Lester Jones; " and 
found that, letter by letter, the two scripts corresponded. 
Not that I believed because of that, but because I had been 
" aware " of him and of that telepathic message, received be- 
fore the writing. I might doubt Mrs. Warwick, but not 
my brother " John." 

Not long after this, I dreamed : One came to me, whom, 
in my sleep, I understood to be a " disembodied spirit." 
" Come out now," he said, taking me by the arm, " and look 
at the sun." I saw it, still high in the West, but less bright 
than it should be; and while I continued to gaze, it faded 
more and more. At last it rocked violently and dropped 
down out of sight. I fell upon my face crying (still in my 
mother's way!) ; " It is a symbol! What does it signify? " 
And I trembled and was greatly afraid. Then the one who 
had led me out, answered : " It signifies the death of your 
father. But inasmuch as you looked upon the sun some time 
before it fell, his death will not be immediate." This dream 
is alluded to in the first stanza of " A Flower of Paradise " — 
written but four years ago, in order to record in verse a 
Psychic vision yet to be described in definite prose. 

There was nothing whatever wrong with my father appar- 
ently. I had never known him to be sick. In view of what 
I have to relate, however, it seems necessary to state that at 
the age of twenty-one, he had been terribly wounded one 
" training day " in the village of Palmyra, N. Y., — an acci- 
dental shot having driven a ramrod through his lungs, within 
one and one half inches of the heart and part way out under 



Mind Submergence and Psychic Revelations 99 

the shoulder blade. It seems pertinent to state that, some 
weeks earlier, that subjective mind of his would seem to have 
taken alarm; for he firmly resolved that should anything be- 
fall him, young Dr. Mclntyre, with whom he had spoken 
but once, and no other, should be his physician. A good 
many practising doctors were on the ground and all con- 
curred in saying that absolutely nothing could be done. 
Father called for Mclntyre, (late from medical college and 
without one patient in the place) : " I am not going to die," 
he declared, " and you are going to save me. This will make 
your fortune," — which it literally did. Being resourceful, 
the young doctor drew blood until there was no color left, 
cleansed the wound by drawing a silk handkerchief through, 
and saw his patient sitting up in four weeks' time. 

I am sorry to seem a little doleful at this point, but we 
are looking out for prophecies: — 

A year and a half after that dream of the sun, this came: 
I dreamed that I was walking in a grave-yard and came upon 
an open grave, very old and sodden. " This seems to have 
been dug a long while," I commented. A voice from the 
void, as it seemed, answered : " It has been dug a great 
many years." I walked on, and began to observe the many 
graves around me. To my astonishment the one-time occu- 
pant of each lay upon the surface, smiling happily upon me, 
and beautiful of appearance. Each one put out a hand, from 
which I took a paper, written upon with a name. " These 
are all ancestors and relatives of my father and mother! " I 
said, and went on, wondering. I came again to that open 
grave. " Will this ever be filled ? " I asked. The voice re- 
plied: "It will surely be filled." Again I wandered and 
looked upon the living, who had been dead. A third time I 
reached the empty grave. A heavy rain was pouring, in 
which I stood and meditated ; then I questioned, with strong 
emphasis : " When will this grave be filled ? " and the swift 
answer came: "In just three weeks." 

I was very dull. It never entered into my waking thoughts 
that the grave which had been dug so many years had been 
waiting for my father all that time. I thought only of my 
mother, and was oppressed by a transient fear, howbeit (al- 



60 A Psychic Autobiography 

though the assertion may be doubted), I was not prone to 
superstition. 

Eleven days later, it being Sabbath morning and my hands 
at leisure, there came to me, for the first time, a powerful im- 
pulse to test that opinion, which had seemed to be my brother 
Lester's, and learn, if possible, whether I could be " influ- 
enced " to write. I had been for six months at home, trying 
to recover from the effects of teaching a very difficult winter 
school and studying very hard during a summer's attendance 
at the Buffalo High School, but as I could not quite forego 
my books, I had fitted up a little room for study, arranging 
a shelf on a level with the arm of my rocking chair, for con- 
venience in writing. I placed pencil and paper on this shelf, 
and sat down prepared to wait. A movement of my arm 
began at once. Names were written, intelligent answers 
were given to all my questions, and a request made that I 
should carefully test communications in order to become sat- 
isfied that they did not, unconsciously to myself, originate 
within my own mind. Very much pleased and interested, 
but without the least excitement, (composure has always 
characterized my subjective experiences), I obeyed, and 
sprang every trap I could devise upon this mysterious operat- 
ing intelligence. For example : " Write the name of some- 
one my mother knew in childhood, but of whom I have 
never heard her speak." This name I repeated later to my 
mother, (who knew nothing of what was going on), asking 
" Who was he ? " She stared : " A man of that name lived 
near us when I was little. You could not have heard me 
speak of him, for he has not entered my mind, I suppose, for 
thirty years." 

I had five sittings with — myself, or these invisible visitors, 
as you like, but by Tuesday noon was disposed to let the 
matter rest for a time, and, in fact, ceased thinking on the 
subject for some hours. 

At four o'clock an uncontrollable impulse sent me up the 
stairs. I paused on the landing: "What am I to do?" 
" Go to the window and look out." This message was 
wholly mental, but most forcible. I went to the window, 
looked out, and saw my father coming. Before there was 



Mind Submergence and Psychic Revelations 61 

time to infer anything from his appearance, came the second 
message: " He is very sick. He is coming home to die." 

A few minutes later, I descended the stairs which led to 
the living-room, where my mother stood kneading biscuits for 
tea. She looked up, paused in her work, and said in a 
startled voice : " Amanda, are you sick ; What makes you 
so pale ? " 

After a moment's pause, I said without preamble: — 
" Father is coming, and he is very sick. He is coming home 
to die." 

I cannot say why she believed me, but she did. After a 
steadfast look into my eyes, she grew exceeding pale, as one 
who hears authoritative news. Then she turned and met 
him at the door. Although he said in all good faith: " I 
am not very sick," I think she had no hope. She, like my- 
self, was sometimes made " aware." 

Observe that none of these experiences, verging upon what 
the world calls " mediumship," could possibly have been in- 
duced by human hypnotism. No living person's mind willed 
me to turn aside from straight Niagara Street, or led me to 
the friend I had renounced. No " living person " could have 
taken on my brother's personality, and promised me a message 
from himself. No " living person," by telepathy or other- 
wise, could have induced the two prophetic dreams. Even if 
that were possible, the fact remains that some immortal mind 
fore-knew the coming death, and named the very day of 
burial three weeks before it came. 

Prophecy — the Word that is with God, the attribute of 
angels, — our attribute as well! It is God's answer to the 
questioning cry of all humanity: " Is man immortal? " It 
is like the falling fire from Heaven that burned the sacrifice. 

Let us be worshippers of God, and not of Baal. 



VII 




A FLOWER OF PARADISE AND A SOUL IN 
SHADOW 

REJOICE that I am able to pour a 
sweeter draught for any who may choose 
to drink. 

On the following morning (the physi- 
cian having cheerfully concurred with 
father " A slight pneumonia, — no dan- 
ger"), as soon as I had attended to my 
household duties, I went to my study. I may say that a few 
months earlier, three friends, with myself, had joined in a 
series of tests in order to discover the origin of that intelli- 
gence which, by tipping a small stand, as we pointed to the 
letters of the alphabet, spelled out coherent sentences. 
While we had not heard of any " sub-conscious " or " sub- 
jective " minds, (this was fifty-six years ago), we said it 
was highly probable that our " unconscious " minds had the 
power of controlling electrical currents, and were responsible 
for that display of physical energy and obvious mentality. 
Our theory, like a plowshare, cut rather deep furrows, and if 
it struck the root of any living tree, we very sensibly pulled 
it out and thrust it in further away. We never once talked 
of " spirits," wisely acting upon the principle of Timasus in 
the Platonic Dialogues: " If we wish to acquire any real 
acquaintance with Astronomy, we shall let the heavenly 
bodies alone." Dr. Hudson himself, could hardly have im- 
proved upon our " working hypothesis," and I am quite sure 
he would have exulted in, at least, one striking example of 
telepathie a trois. " Who made you? " we asked the stand. 
" Orson W. Hammond." " That is a lie! " ejaculated our 
hostess from her distant seat by the fire. " No man of that 
name ever lived in Amherst, or anywhere else to my knowl- 
edge." But four times over the name " Orson W. Ham- 

62 



A Flower of Paradise 63 

mond " was spelled out with strong rockings. " Of whom 
were you bought?" I queried. "Of Henry Blake." 
" Right " said our hostess. When her husband came, we 
called out at once: " Who made this stand? " To which 
he replied : " I bought it before my marriage, of Henry 
Blake. He had just bought in all the stock of a man who 
went West and was never heard of again. That man made 
the stand. His name was Orson W. Hammond." By com- 
mon consent, we suspended our experiments forthwith. They 
had begun to tax our wits. 

But now, as I shut my study door and sat down to think 
myself out of trouble, I reverted to our theory: "All this 
writing, which I seemed not to do myself, may have been the 
work of my ' unconscious mind.' If so, its power to delude 
is beyond calculation? Therefore, notwithstanding all the 
names of ancestors, relatives and others, which have been 
written — most of them strange to me although known to my 
mother it seems, should this one declaration that my father 
was ' coming home to die,' prove untrue, I will never again 
tamper with my unknown self. Yet I will, this once more, 
allow the writing to go on, and will not interpose my 
doubts." 

I drew forward paper and pencil, being, by this time quite 
neutral-minded and non-resistant. This message followed: 
" The statement was true. Owing to conditions of which 
you are not aware, it was thought best to inform your mother 
at once. Give us an opportunity to prove that the tidings 
did not originate in your own mind. Put us to some test." 

After a little study, I brought a large Bible and placed it 
on the shelf at my side. Then I said : " A spirit should be 
able to read print without the aid of mortal eyes. I will turn 
my face wholly away, and do you, whoever you are — turn the 
leaves of this Bible and put my finger upon some text which 
will tell of a death." With movements far more rapid than 
usual, my hand was made to whirl over the leaves. When 
my finger was held down firmly, I turned and read Gen. 

xxv. "Then Abraham gave up the ghost and was 

gathered to his people. 

" Again," I demanded, and again the finger pointed : Gen. 



64 A Psychic Autobiography 

xxxv. 29. "And Isaac gave up the ghost and died and was 
gathered to his people" 

"Once more:" And the finger selected Gen. xlix. 33: 
"And when Jacob had made an end of commanding his sons, 
he gathered up his feet into the bed and yielded up the ghost, 
and was gathered unto his people." 

Even then I would not be satisfied. Perhaps ten other 
texts were found to tell the same story; till, at last, all the 
leaves were flung over and my finger placed upon Rev. 
xxii. 20. " He ivhich testifieth these things saith : — Surely 
I come quickly. Amen. Even so, come Lord Jesus." 

And now the tempest fell. Long time convulsed with 
sobs, I gave way to what seemed unendurable grief. Not, I 
affirm, because of all this attestation, but because of an inner, 
invincible conviction. I also was a spirit, and I fore-knew. 

At last the storm subsided. I said : — " I must be recon- 
ciled ; I must be glad. He has earned his rest. But oh, if I 
could only see one thing that my father will see in Heaven ! " 

My thoughts drifted : " He will see little Mary ; will 
she look as she used to look ? " I tried to recall her face, but 
I was about eight when she died, and that memory was quite 
submerged. " He will see Lester," and I remembered his 
face perfectly — the broad white brow, the large gray eyes, the 
curling hair, the boyish beauty, and that pallor that prophe- 
sied of death. Other faces came, recalled without an effort. 
Weary of this, I rested my elbow upon the arm of my chair, 
closed my eyes and covered them with my hand. 

Instantly, I saw light — white beyond all whiteness — un- 
dazzling, immaculate light ! I said in my soul : " That is 
the light of Heaven. By that light my father will see." 
And it did not enter my mind that I, also, might see. Never- 
theless, as though it were an ocean, there was presently an 
undulatory central movement as of one coming through from 
far away. Then appeared a child, slightly reclining, it 
seemed, upon a pale gray cloud, less effulgent than the light. 
I was enabled therefore to see with perfect clearness, the 
breast upon which my eyes first rested, then the floating robe, 
long, and diaphanous beyond human conception. Then I 
lifted my eyes and looked directly into hers. She had no 
earth-taught speech ; there were no transmitted words. With 



A Flower of Paradise 65 

celestial gravity her eyes met mine and I interpreted their 
meaning and intent. " Did you know me once and love me? 
Do you know me now? " My heart shook me with its leap- 
ing: "It is Mary! It is Mary!" Then she smiled ! All 
her dimpled face smiled ! and all those dimples I had known 
of old ! Yet, from out those eyes of heavenly blue, angelic 
intelligence looked, forevermore denying infancy. 

When the vision had dissolved in light, and the light itself 
had dissolved in ether, I arose and said in my thrice-happy 
soul: " I have seen one thing my father will see!" and I 
was content to have him pass away. 

So back to common life and daily need. That afternoon 
— my father tranquilly asleep, the children out at play — my 
mother challenged me: "Why did you tell me that your 
father had come home to die? " 

After a few minutes' delay for gathering courage, I re- 
plied : " Mother, I ought to tell you that I have become a 
writing medium." 

She looked at me with evident contempt. But, presently, 
being fair-minded, she commanded : " Get a slate and pencil. 
If spirits can move your hand, they can read my mind. I 
will ask for one I used to know, and, should the name be 
written, I will ask another question. Should there be a false 
or inconsistent answer, showing that my thoughts are not 
known, that will end my investigation." 

" Did you ask for your brother John, Mother ; The name 
written is John Mott." " Very well ! go on." " But now 
the writing says, ' I am your father.' " " That is the one I 
asked for," she admitted. 

I had expected her to ask concerning father. Finding 
nothing in the writing that implied as much, I questioned : 
" Are these really answers to your thoughts? " 

" They are," my mother said; but soon after put the de- 
cisive mental question: "Will Henry die of this attack?" 
" So soon," was written forcibly, " that if you do not send 
to Buffalo for your daughters by tomorrow morning, they 
will never see him in the flesh again." 

We laid the slate aside and it was many months before I 
wrote for her again. My sisters, being sent for, reached 
home Saturday evening. One day's delay would have pre- 



66 A Psychic Autobiography 

vented their arrival until Monday evening, when they would 
have been too late. 

Every one knows that the happifying effect of some little 
attention from a friend, or even a stranger, is often out of all 
proportion to a cause so slight. I did not seek for messages 
in those mournful days; but someone seemed to show me 
small, unlooked-for favors. For example: My much needed 
thimble could not be found. My moving hand reached for 
a pencil and instead of any matter of moment, wrote : " Your 
thimble is up-stairs, in a closet, on a shelf." This was in- 
credible, for the closet had never been put to use. Yet there 
on the shelf stood my thimble, as though it had climbed there 
of its own accord ! Lost in sorrowful thought, I was roused 
by another reach for my pencil : " Your cake is about to 
burn " — which I found to be the case. These momentary 
helps were strangely comforting. 

On Sunday morning (my sisters attending to household 
affairs in my place), I went to my study, simply for an hour 
of restful thought. Yet, when a writing movement was be- 
gun, I did not make resistance. Nothing at all like what 
was written then, apparently to relieve my weary mind, had 
I ever heard or read. This was the substance of the story: 

" Corresponding with the light that illuminates the phys- 
ical universe, there is a mind-light, which pervades all space. 
As a prism separates the colors of sun-light, the human brain 
separates mind-light. Each faculty has its location in the 
brain and each receives and absorbs that one refracted ray, 
which is necessary to stimulate its action. These rays, being 
again refracted, unite in a halo or aureole which surrounds 
every soul. Now, the mind-light is pure white, but its rays 
are unequally appropriated owing to the predominance of 
some faculties, which are either greater in themselves or 
more active than others. Consequently the re-united rays 
forming the aureole, cannot have the perfect whiteness of 
original mind-light. If one be strongly under the control of 
his conscience, he will be surrounded by a golden halo. If he 
be full of wrath, scarlet will appear. If benevolent feeling 
be in the ascendant, the color will be a lovely azure. If he 
reverence the Supreme Being, a clear silver will surround 
him. If the spiritual element overflow all others, there will 



A Flower of Paradise 67 

be an atmosphere of soft rose. Should pure conjugal love 
inspire him, he will be encircled by a luminous, royal purple. 
Should he be given over to wickedness, his aureole will be 
dark and cloudy." 

All this charmed me : " How does my uncle John Mott," 
(whom I had never seen), "appear to your eyes?" "A 
truthful spirit clad in gold." " And my Uncle Alanson 
Jones?" "One of good intentions, in pale gray." And I 
went no further then or afterwards. It seemed just a pretty 
story. 

That afternoon, for the first time, the physician expressed 
a fear : " The crisis will come in three days," he said, " we 
will carry him over that with stimulants." 

I went at once to my study. " I must be prepared. 
When will father die? " " A little before noon tomorrow." 

The next morning, after some hemorrhage, he sank into a 
state of lethargy. About nine, I was left in charge of him 
and stood a long time, it seemed, with my eyes fixed upon his 
face. I heard no one enter; but after a while turned and 
saw, sitting at the foot of the bed, regarding my father with 
a most sorrowful expression, one John McLaughlin — an 
Irish working-man, over whom my father had exercised 
strong influence, restraining him from drink. This word 
rushed in: 

" Look at that man! He hasn't a week to live! " 

The message did not startle me out of my abstraction ; but 
I asked: " Am I to tell him? " 

" No. It would do no good. He cannot emerge at once 
into a life of splendor and beauty, as your father will. He 
must take his chance! But he hasn't three days to live!" 
Now fully aroused, I trembled and left the room. 

Twenty minutes before noon, my father breathed his last. 
Two days later, exactly three weeks from the date of my 
dream, we took our long, sad ride to the old Prospect Hill 
burying ground of Buffalo, and stood, in a pouring rain, to 
see the filling of that long-opened grave. 

That night I slept most heavily. At last I dreamed that 
I looked out into a darkened space. There I saw John Mc- 
Laughlin, with seven or eight other men, all very like himself. 
Before them stood a Catholic priest, draped in a long black 



68 A Psychic Autobiography 

robe. A scarlet cross extended from the neck to the hem of 
this robe, the arms of the cross reaching from shoulder to 
shoulder. 

Out from among his companions, stepped John McLaugh- 
lin ; and now he appeared draped in scarlet from head to foot. 
" That is the color of wrath," I thought. " He is fiercely 
angry." And that seemed strange, for he was a man of 
gentle disposition, willing to undergo any hardship for the 
sake of those he loved. 

I heard him speak; and this is just what I heard him say: 
" You have lied to me all my life. But for your lies, I 
wouldn't have been here! I am taken away from my family. 
What will my wife do without me ? Who will take care of 
my children? Tell me no more lies; tell me the truth: 
Where is Heaven? Where is Hell? Where is purgatory? 
Where do I belong? What will become of me? Tell me 
the truth ! — the Truth ! " 

The priest lifted his head as if to answer, then raised his 
right arm and hid his face behind the flowing sleeve. I 
seemed to pity him more than the other. I thought: " He 
did not mean to lie," and then I turned to hear what more 
the angry " penitent " might say. Just then my name, called 
loudly, broke my dream. " You must get up ! " shouted 
Bennie: " It is eight o'clock. Mother wants you." A mo- 
ment later he came running up the stairs again : " Say, John 
McLaughlin is dead! He died last night at three o'clock! " 

This was the physician's explanation of the sudden death : 
" Rigorous fasting during Lent, without cessation of labor." 

And I believe that one, just gone before, who on earth had 
striven to keep this man from straying, may well have sought 
him out — foregoing all that glory, that John McLaughlin 
might tenderly be drawn from shadow into light. 

Behold our holiest occupation in that holier life! 



VIII 
A CHILD AND A PHYSICIAN 




HAT stern Scotch grand-dame of whom 
MacDonald tells us, — handing the boys 
their portion at the table on plates so 
loaded that even boyhood scarcely could 
dispose of all that food, was wont to say 
severely: " Hey! Ye'll get na mair! " 
With me a strong necessity for super- 
lundane aid had come and gone. For long months after 
our immediate return to Buffalo, save once, I "gat na mair." 
That once it happened I was in the church I knew so well, 
and recognizing friends I had not seen for years. Telepathic 
messages went flashing through my mind. " Emmeline will 
be in mourning for her father in a week." — " Ellen must 
wear mourning for her father in two months." I knew the 
prophecies were true (and so they proved), but I protested: 
" Spiritual gifts are much to be desired ; but if this is one of 
them, I do not want it. Never tell me such a thing again ! " 
And if it were a " gift " I lost it then and there! 

Great pressures have been brought to bear upon me, as 
will, in part, appear; burdens have been imposed, such as no 
mortal could sustain, unaided from above; but always with 
my pre-consent and at my absolute desire. My rights, in 
no case, have been held in disrespect. 

A weary summer followed. Mother very ill, the babe — 
born after father left — attacked with whooping-cough, and 
always close to death; three other children needing care; 
older sisters and younger brothers taxed with constant labor ; 
myself racked with pain from spinal inflammation or, as 
afterwards pronounced, a general inflammation of the nerves, 
our neighbors more than whispering that I was " shirking 
work," — I lived without companionship and grieved that 
none were helped because of me. The sole approach to what 

69 



70 A Psychic Autobiography 

I thought was " spirit-influence," was a persistent semi-daily 
exercise of hands and arms in bodily manipulation. That 
made me wonder, till I discovered benefit therefrom; and 
hurling medicines out of the window, I instituted, by " sug- 
gestion " I imagine, a course of water-treatment well adapted 
to the case. So I began to mend. 

One day it seemed " borne in " upon me, that I must leave 
my bed and seek to re-acquaint myself with Mrs. Collins, 
who, in former years, had followed mother's lead in working 
for their church. Sudden access of wealth had let her into 
wider social circles, in consequence of which her husband 
(fervent in his Methodism) and herself had been converted 
to my faith. Their daughter, Maria, three years my senior, 
had been my classmate, for I was rather well advanced in 
study, at thirteen. About that time she died, to the incon- 
solable grief of parents and a lover to whom she had pledged 
her troth, and from whom she had been separated by what 
seemed judicious opposition. 

I walked a mile in misery. Then, quite worn out, I rang 
the bell. A little girl of eleven opened the door, but said: 
" I am all alone in the house," — evidently expecting me to 
go at once. When I told my name she gave a little cry of 
pleasure : " Oh ! come in ! I have a splendid new piano on 
which no one has played, except myself; and I have had it for 
six weeks. I want to hear it, but my teacher lives up town, 
and I have only been to her twelve times. Your sister said 
that you should come and play for me as soon as you were 
well enough." 

" I will, if you will let me rest a-while," I said; " but first 
sit down and let me hear your lessons." 

" I only know two pieces," the child apologized. " The 
White Cockade " and " Irish Washerwoman." But she sat 
down and played them both several times over, one note to 
each hand, all her unoccupied fingers rigid with conscientious 
effort. 

I took the stool in turn and played my little repertoire of 
waltzes, polkas and marches, she leaning upon the end of the 
piano, intently watching my hands. I had really played 
about all I knew and paused to chat awhile; but my hands 
went on of themselves, it seemed, so that I laughed and said : 



A Child and a Physician 71 

" They are being influenced " — not quite sure that she would 
understand. " Let them go on ! " she cried, much interested, 
and began to make comments upon the melodies which were 
being played — very simple dancing tunes, quite new to me. 
In the middle of a sentence she stopped, and, looking up, I 
saw that her eyes were closed. She moved away into the 
center of the room and began to dance very gracefully. I 
learned later that she had never seen dancing, but her move- 
ments were charming. With my head turned over my shoul- 
der, I paid no attention to the music, except to note that it 
answered very well and was without discords. " Make her 
dance the Spanish Fandango," I said in my mind ; and the 
music changed, grew softer, sweeter, slower. Her poising 
figure, her lifted waving arms, her sylph-like undulations 
filled me with delight. After some time she pirouetted to the 
stool from which I sprang, took my place, struck the keys 
with practised hands, and played for me to dance ! Not that 
/ knew how, but someone did, it seemed. Of my own voli- 
tion I could not have so exercised myself without much phys- 
ical distress; and yet I was not harmed. All the while I 
kept turning my face her way that I might watch her nimble 
fingers, playing sweetly, rapidly and striking no false notes. 

Then, I, too, paused beside the stool, from which she 
sprang in turn ; and while I struck some final chords, she took 
her former place, opened her eyes and — finished her last sen- 
tence ! Very evidently she knew nothing of all that had been 
taking place; and I refrained from telling her, — she was so 
very young. 

This from Mrs. Collins, to whom I told the story: Two 
weeks before, her husband and herself, wishing to attend a 
" circle " and not willing to leave the child at home alone, 
had taken her along. Several children, with herself, were 
allowed to sit in the corner of the room on condition that 
their elders should not be disturbed by noise. But this child 
had floated forward, with closed eyes, and astonished all with 
her exquisite dancing. Finally she had crossed over to her 
mother, made a sweeping courtesy and asked : " Do you 
know who lam?" "I do not. Who are you? " " I am 
Maria. Father and you would not let me go to dancing 



72 A Psychic Autobiography 

school when I begged so hard. You thought it would be 
wicked; but now I dance all I want to." 

An argument of Dr. Hudson's — supposed to be unanswer- 
able, is that alleged communicating spirits never tell what 
sort of lives they lead — what are their occupations and enjoy- 
ments. Perhaps they fear to shock our sensibilities. What! 
Dance? Laugh? Shout? Rejoice in liberty to breathe 
without restraint? 

Some one has dared to say that God Himself has humor. 
How else, in fact, should such an "attribute" be ours? 
Dear, dear Maria: At sixteen, forbidden to dance, per- 
suaded not to love; — Let us imagine her set free and full of 
sport ! 

We know from records that the " mediums " whom Dr. 
Hudson visited were hypnotized by mortals — himself or any 
other. Since their subjective minds were constantly amen- 
able to suggestion, no doubt their hypnotizers could, had 
they so chosen, have put into those minds a thousand pretty 
tales about the future life. Perhaps they lacked imagination 
for it. Anyway it must have been far easier to — shuffle 
cards ! 

If anyone had hypnotized this dancing child, it must have 
been Maria ; but she did tell — a little ! and how much ! 

A woman whom I heard about ("Celestial Kite" they 
called her), " thought and knew, declared and testified " that 
if, upon a pre-appointed day, one hundred thousand persons 
would fly one hundred thousand kites, great power would 
be drawn down upon the sons of men. And really, if we 
want telepathic messages from the skies that way would an- 
swer just as well as any hypnotism, wherein a human mind 
supplants that of the sleeper. 

The heavenly bodies up in space, will be reflected now and 
then in little valley-pools between our Everests and Chim- 
borazos. Never mind ! Pay no attention to them ! Go on 
and study your astronomy by drawing diagrams ! Or better, 
formulate hypotheses and logically prove there are no stars! 
at least that none can ever shine for us ! 

Of this we may be sure. A super-mundane being need not 
much concern himself with mortal hypnotizers and their 
" trained " percipients. He will come to us if we permit, 



A Child and a Physician 73 

by his own will and wish and in his chosen way. So let him 
come and answer for himself. 

And if the " Dead " (we grossly call them so), can come, 
how can they come? One would not guess by intervention 
of a common hypnotist, a sort of lens for microscopic views 
of embryonic minds. Light, by reflection, may be polarized 
till it is wholly quenched. What can these hypnotizers do 
for us but polarize our light? Push back the crystals; let 
us have the sun! 

Come, then, O, living " dead," directly to our souls! By 
wireless telegraph, or telephone or telephote or blest telep- 
athy! We want to read and hear and see and understand. 
Full well you know the way, and well you know our need! 
And if you make us fall asleep and dream of you, why, that 
is well; and if you let us keep awake and yet reveal your- 
selves, why, that is better still. Come every way or any way, 
— but come! 



When autumn came, I sought out Mrs. Lowell, just to 
spend the day. " I shall not let you go tonight," she told 
me : " I've been hearing of your " laziness " and I intend to 
find out all about it." 

" How will you find out? " 

" By Dr. Jerry Carter,* who will be here over night, or 
rather — Dr. Hedges;" and she told me something of that 
" dual personality." " You remember we became convinced 
of spirit-intercourse, three years ago,- while I was at Fredonia, 
in a Water-Cure. There we had frequent circles by con- 
sent of Dr. Brown — a very able man. This Jerry Carter 
was brought in to us because he had a way of falling into 
trances, not induced by Mesmerism. When in those trances, 
he was Dr. Hedges. To guard against all influence but his 
own, Dr. Hedges ordered the making of a horse-shoe magnet, 
to be held by Carter going into sleep — the only foreign aid 
allowed." 

Mrs. Lowell then went on to tell me that the patients of 
the institution spread the story; and, though neither Dr. 
Brown nor the " medium " himself, nor any other within 
easy reach had ever heard of Dr. Hedges, word came from 

* See Appendix II. 



74 A Psychic Autobiography 

far that there had been an excellent botanic doctor of that 
name; and more — some who had been his patients, came 
to see this Carter and identify his " influence." This was 
done beyond all cavil, so they said. 

I only write affirmatively of the things / know; and here 
is what I realized myself. 

Just after introduction to this Carter (" My friend — not 
very well! "), he took his horse-shoe magnet, sat him down, 
and laid the bar across its upturned ends. In a few moments 
he was deeply sleeping — not a quiver of the eye-lids. It 
seemed his very features changed. Expression moulds the 
face more than we fully apprehend, I think. He reached his 
arms to Mrs. Lowell, who removed the bar and spoke to him 
at once. She said to me : " He will not hear you ; he hears 
nobody but that selected one who lifts the bar." So I took 
notes and held my peace. 

Jeremiah Carter was a worthy man, a tailor, very ignorant. 
Some said he could not read. More awkward English, more 
desolate of Grammar, than his common talk, could hardly be 
imagined. His manners, not offensive, were wholly without 
polish. 

Dr. Hedges was a gentleman. Courteous in deportment, 
scholarly in language, technical when speaking of diseases 
(which he seemed to read as one might read a primer) choos- 
ing botanic remedies, and carefully explaining to his patients 
all their properties, seeing past and present, yes, and future 
also within certain limits! — such, and more, appeared this 
Dr. Hedges. 

When he had looked me through, it seemed, and stated 
what was seen, he said : "I must be absent for a time. I 
want her home-conditions." In that absence, Carter quiv- 
ered constantly. Why did not Dr. Hedges search my mind 
for information? We were not en rapport for one reason, 
possibly. It seemed he could see better by himself. 

" So many active ones, intent on necessary tasks," he said, 
" nothing to cheer and soothe. No one to blame, nor any 
hope of change. The child must suffer or be helped some 
other way. We'll try and help her somehow." 

Although I had been ill at one time with lung fever, it had 
not been supposed that there was any special weakness of the 



A Child and a Physician 75 

lungs. This he detected, saying: " Just one heavy cold this 
winter would result in death. This I can save her from," 
and gave his remedies of simple herbs. " But there is more 
than this. There will be, by and bye, extreme convulsive 
action of the heart and lungs. As a physician of the body, I 
declare she cannot live through that." He paused awhile: 
" I have superiors. They tell me she will live. But, after 
that, there will be hemorrhage. I know the body; — that 
must surely be the end." He paused again : " But my su- 
periors tell me that she will not die because of that. I do not 
see how that can be, but they are wiser and I cannot doubt. 
They tell me they have chosen her; she will not be allowed 
to pass from earth till she is old. They tell me she has qual- 
ities that will make her yet a blessing to the world." 

" I believe it! " ejaculated Mrs. Lowell; and I — breathed 
balm. For once my little gifts were magnified. 

Now, having passed through all he had predicted, four 
years later, Rev. Rufus Cooley and his wife, my sister, sent 
me, as a last resort, to Clifton Springs, N. Y., where I was 
saved as by a miracle. 

But pray, who hypnotized this Jeremiah Carter? From 
what " living person's " mind came all that knowledge and 
that power of prophecy? Long after I was told of Jerry 
Carter's marked development — the magnet laid aside and 
consciousness retained. I think he was not wronged by all 
that " influence." He who induced the sleep, well under- 
stood the law, and would not mis-apply it. He made it 
serve a purpose most beneficent, the while he did not fail to 
educate that long-neglected brain and greaten its capacity. 
He played no tricks with that subjective mind. He did not 
" train its powers to high proficiency " in reading others' 
thoughts, describing distant objects, telling the time of day, 
discerning dates of coins and just how many spades made 
black the card ! Humble he was ; although he knew far more 
than many a Psychist, let us say, he owned he had " supe- 
riors " and learned of them. Since always there is something 
to be learned, no doubt he went to school. They do this in 
the upper world, it seems. 

As for myself, no loss of personality has been exacted. 
From that one blest experience in early life till now (fifty- 



76 A Psychic Autobiography 

eight years), I have not been deprived of my objective con- 
sciousness. If possible inheritance might count, it seems I 
might have been of finer mould. My father's sisters — two 
of them, at least, withdrawing at their stated hours for " se- 
cret prayer," were sometimes found entranced, by those who 
sought them, and were none the worse, it proved, for being 
touched " with that live coal from off the altar." I have 
heard that they were faithful wives and mothers — housewives 
capable and kind. Would that a certain niece of theirs had 
half their grace! 

And yet I have a gift with which I would not part. A 
friend once named it " mental grip." Sickness has never 
shaken that firm hold, even near the gates of death, with any 
slight delirium. When " under influence," as we Ps}^chists 
say, I have always known just what was being done with me, 
said through me or given me to say; and afterward, I have 
been able to analyze experience, and search for any trace of 
interference on my part. My readers will make full allow- 
ance for such cognizance throughout, and use it in fair argu- 
ment, if so they choose. 

But I may add that I long since discovered in myself (not 
that I am singular in this) two distinctive mental states. In 
one, origination leads the way. Intensity and energy of 
thought are dominant; also there is excitement — just enough 
to fan, and not blow out, the fire of composition. But in 
the other state there is tranquility (I speak now of the state 
conducive to control), and there is pleased attention, ready 
acceptance of what seems another's thought, even when op- 
posed to mine. There may be mental effort on my part; if 
so, I am unconscious of it. When I said in rny deep trance: 
" That may be the central sun," or " That is Chaos," those 
were my own thoughts, and were so recognized ; but they 
were parallel with others not my own, and did not interfere, 
in any way, with that subjective vision. 

These things were necessary to be said. It will be claimed 
that my own mind is much in evidence. I hope so — nay, I 
know so, in a sense. If spirits came, they found me seem- 
ingly alive, and did not slay me, first or last or ever! They 
had to deal with me before they dealt with others through 
me — as I well believe they did. I am very sure that edu- 



A Child and a Physician 77 

cators on the heavenward side — however cramped by mortal 
personality — can give out more through us when we are wide 
awake than when we fall asleep. For we are spirits also, 
subject to the very laws that govern them. There must be 
interchange — they must descend or we must rise, to meet 
upon one plane. Perhaps we do not always know whose 
thought is uppermost, theirs or ours ; for there must be com- 
mingling more or less. But that is better than hypnotic 
sleep, induced by human hands, controlled by human wills, in 
which the soul goes dwindling off — the sport of cosmic winds, 
while ignorance directs. 

The human brain is not a perfect substance for transmis- 
sion ; but, at least, it takes that " mind-light " in, distributes 
it and gives it out in halos, luminous more or less. 

I am not saying with all this that " living persons " are 
not telepathic, each to each. I know they are. It needs no 
hypnotist to tell us that. Let us have done with such ; — live 
out our little lives and think our daily thoughts, take in 
those messages that flit from mind to mind as homing doves; 
and if, from out the heavenly flocks of flying birds, one set- 
tle now and then, see that it be not slain of arrows at our 
feet by one who knows not larks. 

This world's telepathy may fling its violets upon that wide 
and fertile field, the human consciousness. That world's 
telepathy enters like sun and rain to make the violets grow. 
" Earth is crammed with Heaven," writes Mrs. Browning, 
" And every common bush afire with God." 




IX 

TELEPATHY, RAPPING AND WRITING 

NY supposed philosophy or scheme of 
thought that cuts man off from possible 
spirit-intercourse is neither sound nor safe. 
It makes of him an underling — a feeble- 
minded thing, at best a creature of the 
earth and nothing more. He asks for light ; 
it gives him glow-worms for illuminants; 
he longs for liberty; it locks him fast behind impenetrable 
walls ; he asks for mountain-springs ; it hands to him, through 
grated doors, some draught from wayside pools where com- 
mon cattle drink; he dies for need of food; it thrusts within 
a mouldy crust or two, and bids him be content. 

But " spirit-intercourse " includes that secret interchange 
of thought between these prisoners of flesh that certain 
teachers name telepathy, — a sort of tapping on the wall from 
cell to cell. I have some little knowledge of the code, — not 
very much. There is a blind intelligence at work behind 
the bars. I too have heard those knockings on the wall. 

Once, riding on the Lake Shore Railroad, nearing Buffalo, 
a rosy little woman entered, sat down facing me and chatted 
volubly, in that sweet country fashion I have always loved! 
In this case it proved the basis of a sympathism. But pres- 
ently, I settled back and, looking from the window, thought 
no more of her. A very tall pole caught and held my gaze, 
so that without a conscious thought, as we were rushing past, 
I turned my head and looked till it had disappeared. That 
instant a strong shock vibrated through me. I trembled, as 
in terror; thinking wildly: "There's an accident. Some 
one is killed ! " Had such a wreckage really taken place, 
according to my wont I should have been quite cool. I had 
just time to ask myself: " Is this a premonition? " when the 
little lady laid her hand upon my knee. Looking round, I 

78 



Telepathy, Rapping and Writing 79 

saw her pale and tremulous: " Did you observe that tall 
pole we just passed? Two years ago I rode on this same 
train, and right there, was an accident. Two men were 
killed. When I saw that pole again, I felt the shock all 
over, just as when it happened." 

One friend, who had a way of calling on me frequently, 
never failed to let me know his purpose all unconsciously ; but 
this I think was less by message than by vivid personality. 
His aura streamed my way and startled my attention. Some 
other few have had a like effect. Nor have I known myself 
deceived by any such perceptions. They are not imaginary. 

Once I sent out a message. Some foreign element had 
made my habitat unbearable, — I must escape. Full of that 
sick distaste, I thought of two dear friends, Levi and Lydia 
Brown, with whom I often was a welcome guest. " Levi," 
I whispered forcefully: "No matter where you are or 
what you may be doing, leave all and come for me! " He, 
in a village sixteen miles from home, just turned his horses 
round into another road and whipped them well to reach me 
all the sooner. " You wanted me," he said, " and here I 
am! " 

My youngest brother, Porter, one of our nation's martyrs 
at eighteen years of age, lay sinking in an army hospital two 
weeks before we were allowed to know. His nurses told 
my mother, who arrived the day before his death, that he 
was wont to call in sleep our several names — my own among 
the rest. / heard and I alone. This I have told in verse, 
with scrupulous fidelity. I quote part of a stanza: 

But so it chanced that once, at dawn awake, — ■ 

Thrilled with a soul-sent cry 
That rent this robe of flesh worn all too thin — 
I rose up trembling: " Twice my name he spake! 
As I were by his bed I heard him sigh 
And knew his dying voice Ah, must he die? " 

One of those three who joined with me in testing the intel- 
ligence of that small stand that knew its maker's name, had, 
if I may express it so, a mental voltage, which I came to real- 
ize in later correspondence. I was young — by no means 



80 A Psychic Autobiography 

prone to over-estimate my influence, and it pleased me well 
to note that, while he wrote to me, his thoughts sped on and 
reached me in advance. I recognized in him a noble char- 
acter — a friend, intensely loyal. But one night I awoke in 
deep distress. It seemed that I had found him in my sleep, 
and he was writing to me. Not his words but their intent, 
I knew, and strove to hinder. " Friend, it cannot be! Put 
down the pen." A moment later and the clock struck 
twelve. The letter came. " It is just midnight," were its 
opening words. Replying, I poured out the best I had, and 
that was much, but lacked the vital word. I hoped he was 
not deeply hurt, but said on Thursday noon : " I shall know 
how he feels at five o'clock." This I presently forgot. But 
just at five o'clock I seemed to rush away and stand beside 
him. He was saying: " I will wait five years." 

Just five years afterward (Oct. i860), I had a letter 
from him and he said : " I have a home in Kansas. May I 
come for you? But I must tell you that, in any case, if 
there are battles I shall fight for ' bleeding Kansas.' " 

Well I knew he would ! With that strong frame, so tense 
with virile energy, that soul of honesty and indomitable cour- 
age, what else was there to do ? And then I heard no more. 

About Thanksgiving the next year, November (1861), I 
cannot give the date more accurately — I found him in my 
sleep, wounded and suffering and filled with thoughts of me. 
Never since then, till some few years ago, have I been any 
way aware of him. I had not felt that he must die and yet 
I longed to know. This world's telepathy was whispered in 
the void so far as I might apprehend ; but I incline to think, 
had he passed on, he would have let me understand. 

Only a year ago (being of late a Kansan) I visited Topeka, 
as the guest of our historical secretary, and, begging for a 
roster, found his name: "Enlisted Aug. 10, 186 1. 
Wounded at Blue Lime, Nov. 24, 1861." Writing to the 
township where he had enlisted, I soon received a letter from 
his surviving brother, Carl, who, with his wife, wrote out 
the history of my honored friend. Twice wounded, many 
months a prisoner, once again a fighting " Jay-hawker," life 
packed with strange adventure long as his country needed 
him, then, rather late, a happy husband and a loving father, 



Telepathy, Rapping and Writing 81 

— little wonder every thought of me was lost, and that full 

voltage turned aside through more important circuits 

Forty-six years I waited for this proof! 

Now I suppose that when we cross the Equatorial line and 
find another hemisphere, there will be many talks of olden 
times; and one will say: " I was aware of you that time 
you longed for me; " and one will laugh: " How well we 
loved each other! How our thoughts and sympathies went 
weaving in and out to make us happier, when we were far 
apart! " Another will acknowledge: " Mother, I was about 
to do a wicked thing, when suddenly it seemed I heard your 
voice within my inmost soul, beseeching Heaven for me; and 
I refrained. You prayed for me that very hour." 

Let us be worthy such an attribute, made ours by Infinite 
Love! But how shall we be worthy save by exaltation? — 
lifting all we are, including that, into the spheres of thought 
wherein we meet all those who lived with us and loved us on 
this side of Death, and now, upon that side, turn round and 
love us on forever — even as spirits will. 

An attribute grows with our growth, and strengthens with 
our strength. It cannot be cut off from what has been, nor 
shut from what may be. 

I take up the dropped thread of my chronology. 

During that winter (1854-5), being sometimes Mrs. 
Lowell's guest, I might have gone to that exclusive house 
held under guardianship by Mr. Stephen Albro (thirty-five 
years editor of the "Buffalo Republic"), who was at that 
time publishing " The Age of Progress " — quite the best 
expositor of my beliefs I ever read. Through Emma Brooks, 
a young girl of sixteen, one " Edgar Dayton " spelled out, rap 
on rap, fine, philosophical essays, which were published 
weekly. " Toe- joints " you say? I once heard raps fall on 
my mother's table fast and thick as drops of equinoctial rain ; 
and, by request, they came down rhythmically, so that we 
sang our " Yankee Doodle " and our " Lilly Dale " in per- 
fect time therewith ; and all because an honest ignorant 
washer-woman, twenty-three, and mother of five children, 
laid her finger tips upon the wood. She had but ten toes, 
anyhow, with which to make a thousand raps a second; and 
beat them out in time. 



82 A Psychic Autobiography 

Early in December (1854), some one rapped out a proph- 
ecy for Mr. Albro, which he made haste to publish — challeng- 
ing his fellow editors to publish in their turn. They did so, 
merrily; but when fulfillment came, they had no space for 
comment. This was its purport : " In two months and a 
half the Russian Emperor Nicholas will die. The cause of 
death will not be given out, but there is one who will be 
greatly profited and leap at once to full authority under the 
new-made emperor." There followed intimation of a crime 
inducing death — but never to be proved. 

When Edwin Lowell (brother of William Lowell, my 
friend's husband), was drawn in to help the "circle," one 
announced himself as " Fred " — a French musician. His 
rappings had to be translated; so an interpreter was hunted 
up, as I was told. However that may be, a good piano was 
procured, turned round — the key-board pushed against the 
wall — and, this being done, " King Edward did a selcouth," 
as the Saxon said. Emma stood at one end, and Edwin at 
the other, fingers on the rose-wood, while such force fell on 
the ivories — in broad daylight — that " music long and loud " 
resulted. My excellent and able teacher, Professor Robert 
Denton, told me the next year, that he had spent two years 
abroad and heard the finest masters, yet never had he realized 
till then what music might be made. " I never heard," he 
said, " such grand improvisations." This was confirmed 
long after to a friend of mine (Henry L. Kendall, Provi- 
dence), by a most worthy clergyman, who had been favored 
with a special " circle." All that was daily talk at Mrs. 
Lowell's table, where no false things could be pronounced. 
But when I was invited also, something held me back. I 
chose, instead, to spend the only day I had at my disposal 
going to public " meetings " — caring very little then, as ever 
after, for material proofs. I am right glad that I decided so. 

There was a hall where Spiritualists went in throngs, be- 
ing yet in their " first love " as old time Methodists would 
say (and would the new time Methodists had half their fer- 
vency!). Imagine! — In the morning, lectures and reports 
from City circles, luncheon in the hall, circles till four 
o'clock, and, in the evening, something like a " love feast," — 
speeches, testimonies, and reports again. 



Telepathy, Rapping and Writing 83 

At least a dozen tables were brought in, there being one in 
place already beside which fifty might sit down, mayhap! 
My table held but eight. Across from me a lady sat, who 
closed her eyes at once and kept them closed throughout. 
Toward the last, (pencil and paper lying near) my hand 
began to write. A full page of foolscap was closely covered 
with a large round script. Nearly as I remember, it was 
an essay, half political, half philosophical. Then breaking 
off his theme, the writer added : " There will come a time 
when, through this one whose hand I move today I shall send 
out a prophecy." And this was signed " John Adams." 

I kept this writing covered from the first, with my left 
hand. But after it was done, the sleeping lady opposite, not 
opening her eyes, said, pointing straight at me : "A sturdy- 
looking spirit stands beside your chair. He has been writing 
with your hand. I watched him doing it. His name, he 
tells me, is John Adams." There fell a gavel on the chair- 
man's desk : " The time is up. Report if anything has been 
received." A young man came and caught away my paper. 
It was not returned to me. 

That evening three most solemn gentlemen announced that 
there had been a fine communication given that afternoon, 
through a young girl not more than sixteen (subject to cor- 
rection by three years), whose mind was all " incapable " of 
so much thought. It had been signed " John Adams," and 
the three had spent some hours in trying to find that great 
man's signature. Their search had been rewarded ; all could 
see how perfect the fac-simile! And then the article was 
read aloud. 

Efforts were made to find me afterward, for several 
weeks ; but I appeared no more, — though often Mrs. Lowell's 
guest. I felt that none must clutch me; what I had to do 
was just to wait within my own environments and take what- 
ever came. Near at home we met in little " circles " once a 
week or oftener, if I were well enough — three of us: Mrs. 
Haines, her daughter Mrs. Manley, and myself, with Mrs. 
Collins now and then (a relative of theirs), who had removed 
to Rochester. Much was to happen afterward because the 
one last mentioned learned to think, in those few times she 
met with us, that I had special gifts. At home I had my 



84 A Psychic Autobiography 

mother. She was not, would not be a Spiritualist, but said: 
" I know that Spirits influence you, for common sense has 
demonstrated that. Your mind or mine, might possibly do 
much of this, but both together could not do it all. That 
these are evil spirits is not credible; but if an evil spirit has 
the power to come, so has a good one, for the Lord is just. 
But I shall keep my old belief in Christ, the Son of God, 
whatever I let go. If these should contradict — what do 
they know about it more than I? They are in some inter- 
mediate state, I think, and reason for themselves. They 
may be honest as Tom Paine, who was the soul of honor; 
but may be just as wrong about the Bible. Their time of 
full revealment has not come — nor ours. We all await the 
final resurrection." Mother modified her creeds but meant 
to hold them fast. Meantime, as you have seen, she did not 
doubt the genuineness of my " mediumship." 

So, learning of that writing at the hall, my mother said: 
" There may be something more to come. Sit down and let 
us ask." At once the name " John Adams " was repeated in 
the same old-fashioned hand — the straight line crossing 
"A." Nothing following, Mother said: "I cannot ask 
you questions as I would some other spirit, but I would like 
to have you grant one small request. Give us some little 
incident of your past life — the least will be sufficient for us." 
This was said aloud. 

What followed was a dissertation upon immortality, based 
upon this incident: 

" I stood beside the sea, and watched an eagle rise and soar 
aloft. He vanished in the sunshine ; and I thought : ' An 
emblem of ambition ! But shall the soul of man not rise and 
soar to heights no eagle ever reached? ' " 

My mother read the thesis studiously (about 400 words 
perhaps) and said: "You never wrote it. You have no 
such thoughts and words at your command." She had been 
brought up on Addison and Steele, Sam Johnson and those 
other fellows, and I felt she ought to know. I hated to 
write prose, and what I had attempted had not dignified me 
much in Mother's eyes — poor stuff! 

One day, I think my Mother was not happy. Life was 
very stern to her, although she was the bravest of the brave. 



Telepathy, Rapping and Writing 85 

" Get out your slate," she said, " and let me ask a single 
question mentally." 

I looked up presently, a little puzzled. " Mother, Mrs. 
Collins' name is Sally — that means Sarah. Here is ' Sarah 
Collins ' written. Can it be that she is dead? " 

" I must ask again," said Mother. This was the response : 
" I am your grandmother." That name had not come up be- 
fore, even in my thoughts. It had, as yet, no lodgment in my 
mind. Sarah Collins Mott (the Quakers often dropped her 
marriage name because of previous celebrity — as we say 
"Lucy Stone"), had passed from earth, supposably, full 
twenty years before my mother's birth. But sixty years of 
heaven had not divided her from mortal kith and kin. 

At this my mother smiled, well pleased : " I asked, who 
was my guardian Spirit. I'll ask another mental question." 
My hand went moving round with no apparent purpose, so 
we talked and waited. Then " Such is Life," was written 
hurriedly and there we saw a perfect spider's web. 

" I wanted her to warn me of my death some little time 
before," admitted Mother. " She has refused, but wishes 
me to understand that life is very frail. I must be always 
ready." Mother added audibly: " Spirit, I wish that you 
would represent Death with as fine a symbol." 

The hand began again. This time we watched, but could 
not tell that there would be an anchor, till the flukes were 
drawn, the slate whirled round to bring them undermost, and 
this was written: " Such is death; an anchor to the weary 
soul and, to the sorrowing, rest." 

" Please," asked my Mother, " draw a symbol now of your 
own choosing." A few lines brought to view a perfect flying 
dove. I feel obliged to say I could no more have drawn the 
bird than taken flight myself. Under it was written : " Such 
is Love," and, without picture, this was added : " The ostrich 
is an emblem of beauty and fleetness." At once with great 
celerity, faster than I could have written them, these simple 
verses followed: — 

" When from the frail body 
Thy spirit takes flight, 
And the anchor is cast, 
And past is the night. 



86 A Psychic Autobiography 

" Then may Love's gentle wings 
Bear thee hence and away, 
With the fleetness of light 
To the regions of day." 

Then Mother said triumphantly: " You can write rather 
pretty verses, but to say so much in so few words, you never 
did. I fear you never will." 

If anyone should read my " poems " of that early date, 
paraded in my full collection, " like broken tea-cups wisely 
kept for show," no doubt my Mother's judgment will be 
justified. 

Anyway, she was undoubtedly the happier because of Sarah 
Collins' symbolism, and the tender summing up in those eight 
lines. 

What better can a spirit do than comfort such a woman ? 



LOGIC AND SPIRIT-PERSONATION 




HE ease with which a self-confessed Logi- 
cian will refute what countless people 
know, is rather daunting to a lesser mind. 
As we have seen, because a " trained per- 
cipient," being duly hypnotized, could not 
contrive to see what none within her sphere 
of consciousness had seen, our Dr. Hudson 
" learned to doubt the faculty of clairvoyance, properly so 
called." To doubt, with him, is practically to arrive at cer- 
tainty. " After the lapse of many years of patient observa- 
tion " (he goes on), " I have yet to witness the first phe- 
nomenon that will have a tendency to convince me of the 
power of independent clairvoyance." And in all those years 
he had not once explored an independent mind ! According 
to the law he has insisted on — the law of hypnotism, — his 
sleeping subjects followed his suggestions. Never once re- 
leased, they saw subjectively what he could see objectively, or, 
stretching very far, what anyone in close alliance saw with his 
objective eyes. Therefore, he dares assert that the subjective 
mind is absolutely without vision of its own. All this by 
way of logic. 

Well, I have seen a " trained " canary draw a cart, ring 
bells, fire off a little cannon, drag a wounded wing, drop 
dead, hop up and run away again as pert as pert! Mercy 
upon me, what a miracle he was! And yet, from first to 
last, he never sang a note. From this, most any child might 
learn — that no canary sings ! 

Each one of us has a subjective mind; so much is settled. 
" The subjective mind is a distinct entity. In other words 
it is the soul." It sees not of itself in spiritual independ- 
ence, we infer, but borrows some objective mind to see with. 
Now that lesser mind, " pure intellect," will " perish when 

87 



88 A Psychic Autobiography 

the body dies." Ah ! what will the robin do then, poor 
thing ? Is the scant soul worth saving after all ? 

" Behold He made us, and not we ourselves." We have 
His faculties and attributes with but a difference in degree. 
What are they? who may number them? or who shall say 
wherein is any lack ? 

Why, Dr. Hudson, verily! Through him we lost the gift 
of prophecy awhile ago : " There is no law of mind that 
will enable it to cognize that which does not yet exist." The 
Infinite is only infinite to this extent : He knows what was, 
what is, but not what yet shall be — more than we know our- 
selves. And now we lose the power of independent vision, 
save through objective eyes sure to be " darkened dust." 
Souls cannot see. The Infinite sees not at all except through 
perishable orbs — yours, mine, the bird's, the ant's, — those of 
the bat and moth that cannot bear the sun. 

One needs to catch a breath. Without foresight, without 
immediate, present sight. All spirits — God's and our's — 
forever blind! What must we lose beside? 

Communion of the saints it seems. That is to say there 
will be no telepathy between our world and theirs. We spir- 
itists think we have proved it otherwise, but now observe how 
ignorant we are. This master of inevitable logic settles all. 
Hear him. 

" The whole question hinges upon this problem : Can in- 
formation, telepathically received by one person, be telepath- 
ically communicated by him to another? This is the crucial 
test. It is the last ditch of spiritism. If answered in the 
affirmative the spiritists will not have a leg to stand on — will 
not have a shred of valid evidence: their cause is forever 
lost." 

Who answers "Yes?" Why Dr. Hudson's very self! 
Logician admirable! Able to reason out a soul for man 
(that neither prophesies, nor sees, nor answers if we call!) 
by reason of a shut-eyed woman, naming you whatever card 
you lift from out the pack — ace, deuce, or king of clubs. 

Come, let's be logical! If Harry, speaking not, but having 
thoughts to spare, transfer a thought to Tom, and Tom to 
Dick — all being clad in tweed, then William — clothed in 
" white samite, mystic, wonderful," can not transfer a 



Logic and Spirit-Personation 89 

thought to Tom or Dick or Harry, though his thoughts out- 
number all the stars within the milky way. 

And now we seem to hear the words reverberating, like 
De Quincy's " long farewells," throughout an infinite uni- 
verse: " Our cause is lost! — forever lost! " — and yet again: 
" Lost ! Lost ! forever Lost ! " 

O, Logic! Logic! turn your guns another way, nor slay 
us where we lie, deep sunk in our " last ditch! " 

And yet I have so much to tell about my " mediumship " 
(if that is what to call it), that I must fortify your minds 
against belief beforehand, or you too may suppose we are not 
wholly " lost." I will not have you saying afterward : " She 
took us unaware."^ But now we find that Hudson has ex- 
plained all that — if we had time to read and understand. 
Please read and understand ; here are his very words : 

" The so-called spirit-medium, in the trance condition, is 

simply self-hypnotized" "Governed by all the laws 

pertaining to hypnotism " " The objective mind is in 

abeyance and the subjective mind is in control " " The 

subjective mind accepts as true every suggestion that is made 

to it," (Ah, dear, immortal idiot!) " Tell the subject 

that he is a dog and he will act the part, firmly believing that 
he is a dog." 

Must we go on through all the cycles of eternity, foresee- 
ing nothing, seeing nothing, knowing nothing save what is 
told to us? — Some mischievous Mahatma drawing near and 
saying: " Friend, you are a dog, a cat, a parrot, or perhaps 
a wolf ! " We shall have no defence, for we have lost our 
sole defender, that objective mind. We must believe all 
things that we are told in spirit-life : for Hudson tells us so. 

However, take us in this life instead : One who is self- 
hypnotized, turns traitor to himself, and plays the very tricks 
professional hypnotizers play with their " percipients." If, 
of a certain loftiness, he tells himself he is a spirit — oh, any 
spirit! — Simeon or Socrates! And then he acts in character. 
How well he does it Dr. Hudson tells us of his own accord, 
designing to be wholly fair (for that is his design from first 
to last ! ) : 

" Mediums of unimpeachable character will personate the 
alleged spirit with marvelous fidelity to the known character 



90 A Psychic Autobiography 

of the spirit: voice, gestures, bearing and personal idiosyn- 
cracies often so perfectly reproduced as to leave no doubt in 
the minds of witnesses of the identity of the alleged spirit; 
and this by mediums who have never been suspected of pos- 
sessing any histrionic ability whatever, in their normal con- 
dition." 

Self-hypnotism! Any hypnotism! — is there no escape? 
Must we go on forever, hag-ridden of this hypnotism? 

But, meanwhile, let us figure out the case of Jeremiah 
Carter. At first he hypnotized himself and told his neigh- 
bors how to make a scientific horse-shoe magnet (poor, igno- 
rant tailor that he was ! ) , so that he could be more perfect in 
his art. Then he went roaming round to find some one to 
personate. He somehow got on track of Dr. Hedges, who 
had been " dead " so long his youngest patients were all 
turning grey. They had never heard of Carter; he had 
never heard of them. Nevertheless he found them out and 
ransacked all their minds to cull their memories of the 
" voice, the gestures, bearing, idiosyncracies " and language of 
their old-time doctor. Then he found the old-time books 
of Dr. Hedges, caught his old-time thoughts and memories 
yet on the wing, came back and told himself (whom he had 
hypnotized ) , that he was Dr. Hedges. Taught himself good 
grammar, botany, therapeutics, technicals, fine manners and 
humility; — adding so much power of reasonable deduction as 
went far to prove himself a prophet; but he caught up him- 
self, before he went too far, and owned that his " superiors " 
could see much farther. Now he prescribed for all the sick 
who came to him (a lot of them each day) ; then woke to 
outer consciousness, forgot all that he had done when he was 
fast asleep, and called himself plain Jerry Carter ! Oh, won- 
drous Jerry Carter! 

_ By such a roasted mammoth-ox, how small my truffled 
birds must seem ! And yet they must be served. 

Before the " writing " phase had passed, I called upon my 
friend Lavinia, a city teacher, whom I knew by correspond- 
ence chiefly. She introduced me to her mother — a pale and 
anxious lady, who was visiting the city, for a special purpose 
as it proved. 

Lavinia's aunt and hostess, Mrs. McClevy, I had seen be- 



Logic and Spirit-Personation 91 

fore and worshipped at a distance, in a young girl's way. 
Pretty soon the three withdrew themselves from me, and had 
a whispered conversation. Then Lavinia came, reluctantly, 
and said : " You have not told me, but your sister says you 
are a writing medium. Mother asks if you will write for 
her." " Certainly, if I can; but it must be on one condition: 
She must ask her questions mentally." I had a reasonable 
dread of interfering with " magnetic currents." 

Something like a name was written once, and four times 
over. Mother and daughter took the paper and puzzled over 
it, but could make nothing out. " Let me try," Mrs. Mc- 
Clevy said, laying down her book and coming forward. She 
looked and burst out laughing, ran up-stairs, brought down a 
letter and showed the signature. Five exact facsimiles were 
on our little sheet. "What was your question, Julia?" 
Mrs. McClevy asked. " I wanted to be told what Doctor 
in the city would do me the most good, if I should visit him." 
The name was that of Dr. Warner — one of the very best — 
alive on earth, of course. 

Dr. Warner did not write his name for us assuredly; who- 
ever did, assumed his personality to that extent. It was not 
I; nor Mrs. Ayer, nor yet Lavinia. None of us had seen 
him. Mrs. McClevy had. Did her subjective mind find 
out the unuttered question from her sister's mind and forge 
the doctor's signature five times in answer? I do not know; 
but the advice was excellent. I naturally suppose a visiting 
spirit gave it, purposely in Dr. Warner's penmanship, to 
show us that he did not need our minds for guidance. I 
hand this filbert over to the Psychists. They may chance to 
crack it easily. I never did. 

After some further mental questions, Mrs. Ayer said aud- 
ibly: " I think of nothing else. But won't some spirit 
write me something on his own account ! " She settled back 
not overlooking what was being written: — 

" Dear Mrs. Ayer : — I cannot rest until I know you have 
forgiven me for what I did so long ago. I wronged you very 
much; will you forgive me? John Cone." 

The lady read the words, and cried out in astonishment: 
" I never did forgive you, but I will, John Cone ! I do for- 



92 A Psychic Autobiography 

give you ! " which was very sweet of her, considering what 
the man had done, it proved. But when a search was insti- 
tuted, it was found that " John Cone " was not " dead." 
However, when the writing came, he was lying in a state of 
coma during typhoid fever, — almost " dead." 

Now, I must needs interpolate, at this point for conveni- 
ence, that some years later, for a whole week through, each 
day the name of an old friend was given me, with written 
messages; I tested the intelligence, and am bound to say it 
seemed the very one it claimed to be. All that week (I 
learned after a year or so), that friend had been in lethargy so 
deep there was no outer consciousness observable ; even breath 
was sometimes not perceptible. 

Do these cases prove that " disembodied " spirits cannot 
come to us? I compassionate the wits of that Logician who 
will answer " Yes." 

Although I knew, for my part, that visits from the liber- 
ated may be real, yet fearing to be over-credulous, about those 
days I set myself to reason them away, whenever possible. I 
had no instructors : Brown-Sequard and other notable phys- 
icists had not been heard of — by myself at least. But I did 
very well without them, on the whole. In place of what is 
called " telepathy," I said " mind influence " or " transmitted 
thoughts." I also said " unconscious mind," and fancied 
each of us endowed with highly subliminated magnetism, for 
effect on other spirits possibly, without our normal conscious- 
ness. 

The writing phase passed gradually by, and I began to 
" personate," — to act as though I were another than myself. 
Of course, I always knew that no one had displaced me in 
reality: but those I "personated," with a few exceptions, I 
had never seen or even heard of actually. You shall see what 
feats of logic / performed " all by my lone." 

In our tripartite circles — Mrs. Haines, her daughter Mrs. 
Manley and myself — we had some chance to study that phe- 
nomenon. 

One evening, I arose, walked round the table, growing tall 
and taller to my apprehension — quite majestic, full of dig- 
nity — and, in a masculine, recitative way, delivered a brief 
sermon — well worth hearing by the way. I announced my- 



Logic and Spirit-Personation 93 

self as " Stephen Olin." Now Mrs. Haines, though she had 
never mentioned it to me, had seen that Stephen Olin, when 
she was a little girl and lived in Massachusetts. I therefore 
formulated this hypothesis: Orilla Adams had an active 
brain; once seeing was enough. That psychic impress, left 
within her childish mind, did, after fifty years, emerge, take 
shape and six-foot personality, stand out and wave its hyp- 
notizing hands above my head, control my mind — my half- 
mind anyway — fill up my brain with solid thoughts, and give 
them utterance through my throat and lips, with stately em- 
phasis; and (that we might not think him Richard Baxter), 
did plainly tell us: "I was Stephen Olin." 

As to the sermon, it had been delivered sometime, not in 
the hearing of Orilla Adams, but to some audience in that 
very State of Massachusetts! " Unconscious minds " caught 
up the ball and sent it rolling this way, that way, every way 
for fifty years, until it bounced among us, and from the brain 
of Mrs. Haines caromed away to mine. 

All very satisfactory. And by the way, Orilla Adams was 
descended from old Samuel Adams and he was cousin-german 
to John Adams ! So you see that name, those essays and the 
expressed intent of prophesying at a later date, might all have 
come from her! "Telepathy." — "The truth is far more 
wonderful," Hudson says, " than our wildest imaginings." — 
Just so! — I did not know her then, but that's no matter! 
Why be critical? 

Once there was a spider caught from home in freshet-time. 
He took refuge on a cat-tail flag ; but when he needed to cross 
over to dry land, there was no bridge. Being a logical 
spider, he formulated an hypothesis — a "working one!" 
Up and down he toiled, a-spinning threads and cutting each 
one off near to the water's surface. Came a friendly wind, 
caught up one of the threads and blew it over to a plant on 
land — whirled round and tied it fast. Easy solution! — the 
spider traveled over happily, and all was well ! 

Oh, these aerial threads that we must spin, to cross thereon 
and find a place for lodging webs and catching little flies! 

We used to sit in a dim light and ponder, after singing 
the " Lord's Prayer," and " How Cheering the Thought " — 
till some slight thing would happen. One night my hand 



94 A Psychic Autobiography 

took up a pencil and traced out the name " Sophronia." I 
was aware, of course, what name was being written, at least 
the motion of the pencil brought it to my mind ; but I said 
nothing of it, and in that semi-darkness could not even read. 
Then I began to " personate " Sophronia. I made-believe 
take down a lot of hair, combed it well, and parted it in 
many strands. Each one I curled with care, doing the right 
side first and thrusting through a phantom side comb, looped 
the curls together, and fastened them behind my ear. I spent 
some minutes at the tip, pulling and patting down, to cover 
it almost, but not entirely. The left strands were curled 
rapidly and put up without trouble. 

Mrs. Haines, at my right hand, suddenly demanded: 
" Who are you? " Evidently the right ear was deaf. My 
head was turned around, the left hand curved over the left 
ear, and Mrs. Haines repeated: "Who are you?" Then 
I was made to speak. 

" I am Sophronia." " When did I see you last? " " She 
was a baby," — pointing to Mrs. Manley. 

Said Mrs. Haines : " Thirty years ago, Sophronia spent 
a week with me. I have not thought of her for twenty years. 
She was very proud, and spent much time curling her hair 
and prinking at the glass. She was deaf in her right ear, 
which had no lobe except a lower tip. I have seen her spend 
five minutes to make sure that the defect was hidden and the 
tip in sight." 

You apprehend the matter:— An impression made upon 
my friend's objective consciousness and probably on her sub- 
jective mind, full thirty years before, took upon itself an ac- 
tual entity, stepped out, came to my side, took up a pencil, 
wrote the name of her from whom the impression came ; then 
went on, step by step, in sequence, doing what Sophronia used 
to do, failing to hear as she had failed to hear, answering with 
perfect truthfulness, naming aloud the very name and just 
how long ago it — the impression had been made ! Sophronia 
was not there — She being in the " Spirit-realm " wherever 
that may be. 

So many Psychic spiders! — How can a body tell? And 
after all, why play at being spider? Is not soul as much 
to be revered? 



Logic and Spirit-Personation 95 

Please don't get tired! I want to tell about Aunt Peggy 
Hopkins. 

Her impression had been made upon the mind of Mrs. 
Haines before Sophronia's I believe, in Rochester, N. Y. 
When I " personated " her (of whom I had never heard) 
my right hip was distorted badly. As I walked my right 
hand, flung behind me, jerked at every step; my left hand 
held straight out — to keep the balance I suppose — had fingers 
badly twisted, with the little one turned back. Then I sat 
down and made-believe to have around my knees a class of 
little children, pointing out the alphabet to them, and shout- 
ing lustily : " What's that ? 'A!' What's that ? ' B! ' " 
etc. All absolutely true to life. 

Now old Aunt Peggy Hopkins had lived alone (near Mrs. 
Haines) in her small house, and would not live on char- 
ity; so the neighbors sent their five-year-olds to school, to 
give her livelihood and keep them out of mischief. She had 
education, — knew her a — b — c's — at least, and was intensely 
proud of " keepin' schule." All neighbors near-at-hand could 
hear her shout the alphabet — she wanted them to hear. She 
was a Methodist, and, strange as it may seem, was held in 
great esteem. Old " Father Fillmore," who had known her 
long, and whom I questioned closely, certainly revered her; 
and he was half-a-bishop — should have been a whole one. 
She had a way of doing unexpected things, explaining: 
" Faather told me to! " One night (be sure I have author- 
ity!) " Faather " came to her after she had gone to bed and 
said: — "Get up; I want you." So she dressed and waited 
till the order came: — "Go out of the city" — telling her 
what road to take — " I'll tell you where to stop." Two 
miles out or so, there was a hut. " Here is where I want 
you," ' Faather ' said. " So she went up and knocked, al- 
though there was no light. Quite sure she heard a groaning, 
she went in and found a dying man. " I must go to heil," he 
said. The case was very urgent. There was no time to 
hunt a candle. Down she knelt and wrestled for the soul of 
that poor prodigal. At last he sighed : " God has forgiven 
me! " and so gave up the ghost. 

Aunt Peggy found a neighbor, sent him over to the hut, 
and started home. At three o'clock, within the city limits, 



96 A Psychic Autobiography 

she was toiling onward, singing very loudly all for joy: " I'll 
praise my Maker with my breath." " A watch-man tackled 
me," she said. He took her to the guard-house — thought her 
drunk or crazy. However, she was so importunate, he sent 
at first-daylight, a message to that well-known Methodist 
whom she called her class-leader. He responded hurriedly 
and blamed the watch-man for arresting such a saintly 
woman. The officer apologized : " How was I to know she 
was religious?" She said: "Damn your soul!" 

We must allow for spiritual reaction. I spoke that word 
myself, as you have guessed, by sheer necessity, after a strong 
religious impulse had been checked — and felt the better for it. 
So did she, no doubt. 



XI 



PROPHECY FULFILLED 



8 


o|j 



NE who evinces full belief in the divine 
authority of Scripture and the Messiahship 
of Christ, observes that " if the spirits of 
the dead communicate with the living, Jesus 
was not aware of the fact." A venture- 
some assertion in the face of that recorded 
interview upon the mountain, when the 
Master's face " shone as the sun." Peter, James and John 
were there, we read, when Moses and Elias came in splendor 
— who had been " living persons," many hundred years be- 
fore. Not only were those visiting spirits seen, but they were 
heard to speak. They " talked " with him, whose raiment 
had become " white as the light." And Peter said : " Lord, 
let us make three tabernacles." " While he yet spake " a 
voice was heard by all, that said to them in their familiar 
tongue: "This is my Beloved Son." But "they fell on 
their faces and were sore afraid." Now afterward, in that 
dark garden of Gethsemane, the record tells us : " There 
appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him." 
Was he aware of that ? Did Jesus know ? 

" Logic is the science of correct thinking." " By observ- 
ing and meditating on facts we demonstrate the truth." Me- 
thinks logicians should be " sore afraid " of overlooking facts 
in drawing their " inevitable conclusions " and framing for 
us " universal postulates." And how does Dr. Hudson know 
what Jesus knew or knew not, near two thousand years ago ? 
If he were " not aware " before his crucifixion, he learned 
" the fact " thereafter; for he, himself, came back, was " seen 
of many," and " conversed " with them. 

Can one suppose that Moses and Elias anyway demeaned 
themselves in visiting that mountain-top and holding con- 
verse with the meek and lowly one, who ate with publicans 

97 



98 A Psychic Autobiography 

and sinners? Or yet in so bestowing grace of sight on simple 
fishermen? But had the foulest leper chanced that way, he 
too had heard and seen, and been as deeply blest: for these 
had once been men : they recognized their kind. Still we are 
told: " Jesus was not aware! " 

Now they who think the loftiest soul in all the spirit-realm 
is not akin to us, are ignorant of law; and they who think 
he would not, if we needed him, acknowledge kinship, far or 
close at hand, by thought-communication or perchance by use 
of common speech, are ignorant of Love. 

Happy am I to find one " postulate " put forth by this 
good friend of ours, with which I can agree ! " Conditions 
prevailing in the spirit-realm "...." are not analogous to 
those of the physical world." Who ever thought they were? 
Do we say of the red rose and the white : " They are anal- 
ogous?" We know they are homologous. They spring 
from roots identical in biologic structure. The processes that 
lead to individual development — to perfect flower and fruit- 
age — are alike in all : — not similar but uniform. 

Let it always be remembered we are spirits and live already 
in the "spirit realm." Emerson says: "The soul is not a 
function ; " but we know the soul demands all functions for 
its constant use. It must see the visible universe here, and 
now, and ever after; it must see that universe we call invis- 
ible (but which is not so, even here, although its glories are 
to broaden on our vision more and more hereafter). The 
soul must hear bird songs and soughing winds and rolling 
tides as well as harmonies too fine for mortal ear. Material 
and spiritual are homologous, as roots and flowers of roses are. 
We shall not be denied a single one of all our senses, for we 
cannot be, without eternal loss. To see red clay is not the 
only use for eyes; but not to see red clay, not to be able to 
look back and see it through eternity, would signify disinte- 
gration and decay — prophetic of disaster on disaster, loss on 
loss, until the soul of man would all inevitably end in blank 
annihilation. 

We three, who came together weekly, did not tease for 
messages or ask impertinent questions. We drew aside the 
curtain, as we could, and let come in whatever ray might 



Prophecy Fulfilled 99 

pierce the clouds and demonstrate the stars. We were but 
feeble folk, not used to climbing mountains by ourselves — 
ready to stay below instead and pluck a flower or two or dip 
the cup in any wayside spring. 

I had been deeply wounded, without apparent cause, by 
one for whom I had a strong affection. It had been her 
freak to call me " Nannie." This was the purport of a mes- 
sage, written, as it proved, a few weeks after her release from 
earth — of which I was not otherwise informed till two years 
afterward. 

"Dear, dear Nannie! Now I know how much I hurt 
you and how well you loved me. Forgive me for I love you 
dearly. Mae." 

The words knocked at my heart; and yet I tried explain- 
ing them away: — " Unconscious mind" and all that make- 
believe philosophy ; the wisdom of the faithless, tapping as did 
Quarles upon a mimic globe: — "She's empty; hark she 
sounds! " — meantime the green earth solid underfoot! 

One evening Mrs. Manley and myself were moved to 
write in alternation, each one walking round the table, paus- 
ing, writing, breaking off after three words or so, and yield- 
ing to the other, till the whole was written. We supposed 
the object was to prove another mind than ours, for my sake 
probably, since I was bent on disbelieving, — not the general 
facts of spirit intercourse, but each particular instance, till the 
proof seemed absolute. This was the message : — 

" Sister : — Your mind is dark. You do not hope that any 
new and pleasant thing will come to you on earth. Some- 
thing is coming very soon. Believe me, it will bring you life 
— health — happiness. Lester." 

The message was not prophecy. No doubt the writer 
stated what he knew to be a fact; for brother and sister, at a 
distance, were secretly arranging for my stay at Clifton 
Springs, where, in those days, there was a " Water Cure " 
(now magnified into a " Sanitarium," immense in size — 
world-wide in reputation). 

When I told my mother, she questioned sharply : " Well, 
do you believe it ? " " Mother, no ! Though Lester wrote 
it, he must be mistaken. No such happiness is possible." 



100 A Psychic Autobiography 

" You are wicked," said my Mother, angrily. I must have 
been a trial in those days. 

There was no doubt my health was failing steadily. Fol- 
lowing that convulsive action of the heart and lungs, pre- 
dicted four years earlier, slight daily hemorrhage had set in. 
The downward tendency was rapid. I was truly glad. 
Having let go the stimulus of desire to live, I would not even 
try. In that mood, I should assuredly have refused a kind- 
ness meant to save my life — as I had really done a year before. 
The reading of a single poem — " The Frozen Goblet," by 
Thomas Buchanan Read — changed me effectually. Not a 
word have I forgotten after fifty years. For very gratitude, I 
must pay tribute to that poet-painter; for I owe to him more 
than I owe to any other of the world's sweet singers. The 
poem is made up of beautiful and novel phantasies, that carry 
underneath momentous thoughts. One whose " eyes were 
full of phantom light " proffered to the poet's longing soul 
the cup of dissolution. 

" Once, twice, thrice, 

That goblet, wrought to a rare device, 
She held to fevered lips of mine 
But mocked them with its frozen wine 

'Till they were numb on the dusky ice. 



" She led me through enchanted woods, 
O'er deep and haunted solitudes, 
By threatening cataracts and the edges 
Of high and dizzy mountain ledges, 
And over bleak and perilous ridges 
To frail and air-suspended bridges, 
Where in the muffled dark beneath 
Invisible rivers talked of death." 

Lastly the poet is made to see that mightier river of life 

" Where every wave that breaks on shore 
Is a human heart that can bear no more." 



Prophecy Fulfilled 101 

Scorning himself for cowardice of soul, he " plunges into 
the dark uproar " to strive with other souls, 

" And drink of the waters till they impart 
A generous sense and a human heart." 

So taught, I grew ashamed of wanting to ascend, while 
yet so poor of soul .... After a six months' stay at Clifton 
and a full year among the healing pines of Northern Michi- 
gan, I brought to Buffalo my earliest book of verse: — nothing 
to blush for, — let it be forgiven; and I am fain to own it 
started growth. My easy-writing times were gone. During 
that winter (1861) I wrote two poems — for I dare to call 
them so. Each cost me weeks of labor, though they were 
not long. I realized my calling as imperative. 

More than six years had passed since one had prophesied 
that there would come a time when he would prophesy 
through me. The memory had been submerged, nor did it 
rise to consciousness till after the fulfillment. 

At daybreak, April 12, in 1861, the first gun struck Fort 
Sumter. The following afternoon Anderson capitulated. 
Two days later came the call for soldiery, followed by 
Seward's optimistic declaration that trouble would subside 
" in ninety days." I was not anyway alarmed after that first 
strong shock. I said : " War is impossible ! " 

As I remember, it was but three mornings afterward, when 
I met David Gray, the poet-editor, who had been kind to me. 
He stopped me on the street: — "I have read your poem 
' Morta.' It is beautiful, but you are off the track. You 
are growing ghostly. Such things do not reach the people. 
Give them ballads, love-songs — things that touch the heart. 
Go home and write a ballad." 

" I will, and send it to you, if you'll agree to criticize it 
with severity." 

" I'll tear it all in pieces! I'll lay it, a votive offering, on 
the altar of the gods, if you will only write it! " 

Fresh from that stimulating interview I rode home, came 
in to Mother in a merry mood, announced my purpose, 
caught the school-room key from off the nail (vacation was 
in April), crossed the road, and climbed the stair to the wide 



102 A Psychic Autobiography 

session-room. Smiling, I jotted down my first eight lines; 
they were not even remembered after that. 

I have been sometimes asked whether my poems come by in- 
spiration — meaning "spirit influence." Assuredly not. Hard 
work produces them. Time and meditation are essential, 
with strenuous labor of revision. But on that day there was 
no meditation possible. What I did was done in ninety min- 
utes only — from half past ten to twelve. 

As once, nine years before, a rushing wind had swept 
through all my physical frame, so now a rolling wave surged 
through my brain. This time I lost no consciousness, though 
all my being rocked under the revelation. And here is what 
I wrote, unaltered by a syllable, — a single word transposed 
being the sole revision. A few days after, it was published in 
" The Buffalo Courier " and was copied widely — notably in 
the " Rebellion Record." It will be found in several verse- 
collections. No one seemed to doubt its truth when it ap- 
peared, but mother only knew the certain source. 

The Prophecy of the Dead. 

Is the groaning earth stabbed to its core? 

Are the seas oozing blood in their bed ? 
Have all troubles of ages before 

Grown quick in those homes of the Dead ? 
The red plagues of yore — 

Must they to our season be wed ? 

We thought the volcano of War 

Would belch out its flames in the East ; 

We knew where the winds were a-jar 
With the quarrel of soldier and priest. 

We shuddered, though far, 
To think how the vultures might feast. 

We said : " We have Liberty's smile ; 

Go to ! we are safe in the West ! " 
But the plague-spot was on us the while, 

And the serpent was warm in our breast. 
We can no more revile: 

The ox is for sacrifice dressed. 



Prophecy Fulfilled 108 

Do ye hear, O, ye dead in your tombs — 
Ye Dead whose bold blows made us free — 

Do ye hear the reveille of drums ? 
Can ye say what the issue shall be ? 
Past the midnight that comes, 
Is the noon rising up from the sea ? 

Who whispered? Is life underneath 

A-stir in the dust of the brave ? 
For there steals to my ear such a breath 

As can only steal out of the grave : 
"Ye must go down to death: 

Ye have drunk of the blood of the slave." 

We have sinned, we have sinned, O ye Dead! 

Our fields with the out-crying blood 
Of Abel, our brother, are fed: 

Must we therefore be drowned in the flood ; 
Waits no Ararat's head? 

Is no ark guided there by our God ! 

" Ye must go down to death. Have ye heard 
The tale of the writings of yore, — 
How One in the sepulchre stirred, 

And cast off the grave-clothes he wore ? 

In the flesh dwelt the Word — 
Inheriting life evermore. 

" When the foes of the nation have pressed 
To its lips the sponge reeking in gall, 
When the spear has gone into the breast 
And the skies have been rent by its call, 

It shall rise from its rest : 
It shall rise and shall rule over all." 

When I had written : " Is the noon rising up from the 
sea?" my head was lifted and I looked in space above me, 
without the least remembrance or intent. Standing — not 



104 A Psychic Autobiography 

with effulgence — but in a twilight none too dim for seeing, 
there I saw John Adams! 

I do not know that I had seen a picture of him, but I 
found one later after search. Let there be no mistaking me. 
/ saw John Adams. There was an effluence or aura dimly 
discernible, not encircling him but streaming down from 
him to me. I had no time to keep on seeing; I had to 
snatch my words. When I had written four lines more, my 
anguish seemed intolerable. I rose and paced the long room 
up and down, wringing my hands and crying out aloud : " I 
cannot write it! Oh, I cannot write it! " But one was 
there who would not be denied. I think the next two lines 
were altogether his — I so rebelled against them. But after 
they were written I was aware of coming consolation. Per- 
haps the last two lines were also his. I wrote them with a 
great and solemn joy, and I believe the prophecy will stand. 

After the seven days' battle in 1862, I was strongly moved 
to write the poem " Richmond." My mood was optimistic. 
I thought, after such wholesale bloodshed, surely there would 
be quick capitulation. I was about to write that now the 
end was coming swiftly. Then without vision, I was once 
again and for the last time, made " aware " of my immortal 
friend. I think he did not dictate any word but " earth- 
quake," which I resisted for a moment. Yet those terrific 
underground explosions at the last, will justify the word. 
At this point in the fourth stanza, I began to write as one 
inspired — yielding myself to that inspiring mind : 

'Tis the lull, the long pause ere the vial is poured, 
And the plagues are let loose that run after the sword. 
Midway the bolt stays: 
Love waits for repentance, and Justice delays. 

Sink down in the dust ; own thy sins of the past ; 

Let the bondman go free in thy borders at last; 
While the hill-sides resound with thy suppliant cry ; — 

Peradventure the Lord God will hear and reply. 
If His grace thou deride, 
His arm will be lifted — then woe to thy pride ! 



Prophecy Fulfilled 105 

For a voice from the " temple of Heaven " will call : 
" It is done! It is done! " and the judgment will fall; 

And "voices and thunders" around thee will blend; 
The fire will consume and the earthquake will rend ; 
In the hurricane's path, 

Thou shalt drink of " the wine of the fierceness of wrath." 

And lo, at thy gates there will fall a great hail! 

Thy men will blaspheme and thy women bewail ; 
For the plague thereof great and exceeding will be, — 

But thy bondmen, O, Richmond, shall rise and go free; 
And voices will cry: 
"The beast, scarlet-colored, behold it must die! " 

I am compelled to think that one who loved and served 
his country, helping her to win a place among the nations 
more than a century ago, loves her to-day — will love and 
serve her, long as principalities endure. John Adams lives/ 



XII 



INDEPENDENT SIGHT AND KNOWLEDGE 





H l 



I AS the soul of man objective vision? A 
negative answer would go far toward nulli- 
fying immortality. Open the gate to one 
negation and all others enter in. We are 
here, primarily, to take possession of the 
physical universe, — to see, to hear, to touch, 
_ to taste, to smell. These functions are not 
grafts. They sprang to life in that deep soil where God in- 
heres for transformation, quickening and endowment. They 
are His functions; He has made them ours. They are em- 
bedded in the plastidule; they are incorporate in Man, the 
microcosm. God is an Essence, resident in matter, — not in 
gross earth alone, but in the highest Heaven, where ultimate 
matter is beyond all vision save His own. We are essences 
in unison with Him, — finite in scope, but, in duration ever 
parallel with matter and Himself. Let us not fear to claim 
our rich inheritance. 

But first we will be humble, asking one question only: 
Have our immortal souls the breadth of earthly vision? Can 
they see the lines of light that make up our chromatic spec- 
trum? If they can, we must infer they carry vision lower 
than the red and higher than the violet. In their progressive 
life they must go on perpetually discerning further, clearer, 
this way, that way, never losing one bright line between — not 
even our narrow seven colors, which, with their gradations, 
are all the lights we see with natural eyes. Should this be 
true, we shall not miss one glory of the universe within our 
due degree. Not true — who knows but we may lose the 
whole ? 

So let us hold small things near to our purblind eyes, and 
find their very outlines as we may, to estimate dimensions 
closely as we can. 

106 



Independent Sight and Knowledge 107 

You will remember that I said one time, addressing a sup- 
posed discarnate Mind : " A spirit should be able to read 
print without the aid of mortal eyes; " — and how I turned 
my own away from seeing, while my right hand, under gov- 
ernance, selected texts of Scripture in a perfect sequence, each 
one answering to my inquiry: " Must my father die? " and 
all agreeing that the time had come when he had lain down 
for the final sleep. To have sought those texts myself, would 
have been most toilsome. I might have read the Bible half 
way through, and not have found them all. But there was 
no delay, there were no hesitations. Fast the leaves were 
turned and without error, texts were found and pointed out. 
If it were my sub-conscious mind (I being self-hypnotized), 
its power to read plain print without the use of mortal eyes 
was amply demonstrated by those many tests. But if my soul 
could see the so-called visible creation, then every soul can 
see! Subjective vision includes objective vision, as a photo- 
sphere includes a sun. Without a sun there were no photo- 
sphere ; without a body there would be no soul. That which is 
breathed out in the act of death cannot be breathed away to 
nothingness. Far as archangels travel, we must suppose 
they still can see, at will, whatever shining orb gave each his 
birth. Nay, should one meet you, some time in eternity, you 
would not need to say: " I came from that fair world 
where dwelt the perfect Man, who, after loving men, died 
on Golgotha and returned again." He would be first to 
speak: " Welcome, thou brother of the Christ! Pass on to 
greater glory! " 

So of the loftier minds. But we too have the gift of spirit- 
vision, seeing small things first, because we are small our- 
selves. 

You may remember, also, that when in Bradford, 1881, 
my very self slipped from its dormant body, I saw the com- 
mon out-door serviceable things, which I had seen awake, 
and one I had not seen before, but went about to look for 
afterward, and did not fail to find. 

This which I am minded to relate, I mentioned in " The 
Continent," I think in 1885 — not giving all details. 

A friend of mine, Elizabeth Graham, during the cholera 
year of 1849, bringing a pail of water from a neighbor's well, 



108 A Psychic Autobiography 

beheld a baby's coffin in the air. It rushed so swiftly toward 
her that she leaped aside lest it should strike her face. That 
night her baby was attacked with cholera and died before the 
dawn. 

Again: Calling upon her in October, i860, I found her 
sunk in deep depression. " I am going to lose another of my 
children," she averred. "How can you say so?" I de- 
manded. " All three are well and happy." 

" Yesterday," she told me, " passing through my parlor and 
glancing round, I saw upon two chairs, across the north-east 
corner, the coffin of a child; " and she related once again her 
vision of eleven years before. "That was prophetic; why not 
this? " I could not reason her belief away. 

Upon the day that followed her recital, after a sickness of 
but half a day, Abby, her baby, died of virulent diphtheria. 
My mother and myself were with her when the sexton came, 
bringing the little coffin. He went alone into the parlor, 
coming out a little later to invite the mother in, lest she 
might disapprove of his arrangement. He had placed the 
coffin on a table set between the two West windows. After 
he had gone the half-distracted mother sobbed : " I knew 
that I should lose a child, for I was shown a coffin, — only not 
so small as this and not so placed. That one was in the 
further corner, set across two chairs." 

On the way home my mother said : " It seems very 
strange Elizabeth does not understand! It was not Abby's 
coffin that she saw, but Martha's. She must lose another 
child, that's evident." 

Three days later Martha had also died, and we were there 
again. Another sexton (the former having been objected 
to), drove up with Martha's coffin, entered the front door 
and parlor, remained a little while, and went away without 
a word. Soon after we went in to see what he had done in 
preparation for the funeral. On two chairs lay Martha's 
coffin, placed diagonally, in the north-east corner. Elizabeth 
cried out : " That is exactly what I saw." 

Observe that, though there were to be two deaths, the first 
was not foreshown. Had Elizabeth been clear of compre- 
hension as my mother, after Abby's death she might have 
thought : " The coffin that I saw was far too large for Abby. 



Independent Sight and Knowledge 109 

Surely I must lose another child." She did not half perceive 
her vision's real significance — two deaths, instead of one. 

It is for us to question: Whence did that prophecy come? 
We may assume hypotheses, — as many as we choose. This, 
for example: — Every soul has powers that may enable it to 
plunge, unaided and alone, into that vast black Erebus, con- 
tiguous to Hades. Among centrifugal and centripetal spir- 
itual forces operating there, it may discern formations of dim 
shape, preparing to rise up to veritable reality on this world 
or another. There this inerrant soul may straightway find 
out something which is germane to itself, and lift that some- 
thing prematurely, out of night and secrecy. After this, it 
may arrive at home, make known those foreseen certainties 
objectively, by symbol or phantasmal vision, or (more abso- 
lutely) by though t-and-word transference. This theory elim- 
inates that superstition of a " spirit realm," where they abide 
who love us and who " hate the unreasoning awe that waves 
them off from possible communion " (as we spiritists have 
learned to think.) But say that we can visit Erebus in this 
life, — oh, the utter dreariness of those dread explorations we 
must make hereafter! Let us pray to be delivered from 
them, save as we may look their way for better measurement 
of our supernal heights. 

But again (to tread more verdant ways and keep in touch 
with our humanity) : Elizabeth was not a " trained percipi- 
ent." Her mind persistently refused to be dislodged by any 
hypnotizer's will ; nor had it shown itself " amenable to sug- 
gestion." She was not even imaginative; and although she 
mesmerized her sick step-mother frequently, to ease the suffer- 
ing, she had not power to hold the sleeper's thoughts from 
wandering far away for " independent vision " — as it proved. 
So when her spirit-friends, (we have them, all of us!) fore- 
saw affliction coming to her with a dreadful swiftness, and 
were fain by previous warning to relieve the sharpness of the 
shock, they could not reach her by the usual means. They 
gave her, not subjective knowledge, but objective' sight — their 
sight, we must believe, as well as hers. As for their prophecy, 
it crowned the whole. They caught up things which did 
exist for composition of that prophetic picture. No doubt 
the coffin was already made; there was the room to which it 



110 A Psychic Autobiography 

must be brought; there were the chairs on which it must be 
placed; and there was Martha, playing in the sun with 
Rachel, by the currant bushes. The thing they pictured, 
with its sorrowful significance, was yet to be! From this, I 
dare to formulate the inference — applying it to spirits on the 
earth or spirits in the Empyrean ; and to the Infinite Spirit^ 
One and indivisible. 

There is a law of Mind, enabling it to see what does not 
yet exist, but ivill exist hereafter. 

Meantime a lower law permits the mind to see that which 
exists but is too far away for mortal vision, even without the 
intervention of a hypnotist or any other " living person " 
from the North pole to the South. 

There are many yet among us who can recollect the great 
anxiety of Northern Unionists during the month (December, 
1864,) when Sherman's army left Atlanta and struck across 
the State of Georgia to the sea. Not once my faith had 
wavered in that prophecy that our loved country should 
emerge from gates of death and " rule " its own beyond all 
peradventure. But I, too, suffered with the multitude, until 
it truly seemed the heart must break. During that month ( I 
cannot give the date at this late day, but history will furnish 
it), I said one night in my first sleep: " I will go down and 
find the General! " and I was well aware of traveling. We 
have no chronoscope to measure intervals of time, minute as 
those that mark a spirit's flight, but consciously I fled, and 
toward the South. It was dark outside of Sherman's tent, 
but not completely dark. I lifted up the canvas (how could 
I do that?) and stepped within. I had never seen a picture 
of the general, nor a bust, nor even read a line describing 
him. In these days every daily keeps the faces of the notable 
before us, more or less distorted. In those days headlines 
flared continually: "No News from Shermans Army!" 
But he, himself, was not portrayed, save by his doughty deeds. 

The General stood before me, not impressing me as physic- 
ally great, but of commanding presence. Florid, rather spare 
in flesh, with that wide prominent forehead, and a face that 
somehow made a radiance for itself by which I saw it per- 
fectly. His lips, I noticed, twitched as if with nervousness, 
but his whole frame was steady and alert. He wore two gar- 



Independent Sight and Knowledge 111 

ments only; a white shirt and red flannel drawers. He was 
in the middle of his tent (and that was not a little one), 
standing sidewise to me, so that I saw his profile only, every 
line and feature well illuminated. 

" General," I said, " how goes the battle? " 

He did not turn his face, but answered audibly: " Hard 
fighting and almost a rout along our flank. The rebels drove 
us back. I have sent on reinforcements, and now we are 
driving back the rebels. We are conquering — WE shall 
conquer! " He spoke with fire and energy. 

Not only did I see the General — as every picture I have 
seen of him and every bust has demonstrated, but / heard his 
voice! Can anyone suppose that voice, vibrating from the 
State of Georgia to Lake Erie, had reached my outer ear and 
roused its dormant hearing? I heard objectively, even as I 
saw objectively — quite independent of the mortal ear or eye. 

When I told about my visit at the breakfast table, we re- 
marked that " yesterday was Sunday," and made record of 
the date, which, by our earliest advices from the re-united 
forces at Savannah, we were fully able to confirm. Further 
than this: An article appeared in the Atlantic Monthly in 
the early eighties (I think in 1883), written by General A. 
C. McClurg, one of Sherman's bodyguard throughout that 
famous march. He says: "That Sunday's fighting has 
been under-estimated " or words to that effect. He writes 
the story out, of a most desperate struggle, ending in victory. 
Word came to General Sherman " at ten o'clock " that Sun- 
day night, of a disaster near to rout. I quote: " Sherman 
leaped from his bed, ordered reinforcements sent, and stood 
for two hours in the middle of his tent, clad only in his shirt 
and flannel drawers, dictating and receiving his dispatches." 

On reading that account, I wrote at once to General Mc- 
Clurg (his house had published my third book — "A Prairie 
Idyl"), telling him my story, and laying stress upon the 
trivial fact that those same flannel drawers were " red." 
This he confirmed by letter, saying that account was wholly 
accurate. " You must have seen the General himself," he 
added. 

About those days (I think in February, 1865), I had a 
dream or vision, which in no way indicates objective seeing 



112 A Psychic Autobiography 

on the part of my subjective mind. There was a. mind that 
saw, but whether one terrestrial or celestial, let my readers 
answer as they will. 

I lifted up my head, half-way aware that my poor bodily 
self was lying sound asleep. It seemed that I expected some- 
thing from the East — I being actually near Angola, west of 
Buffalo. From far-away, I saw one coming rapidly through 
space and with a gradual upward movement, as though just 
leaving earth. He seemed a most majestic spirit, tall, and 
draped in sombre robes that swept below and seemed almost 
to touch the ground. He passed me, paused, turned back 
and, looking down upon me, said exactly this : " Three of 
the finest young men in Buffalo have just gone to Heaven in 
a fiery chariot! " — and then went on ascending! I awoke, 
and soon the clock struck three. 

Telling this at breakfast, I remarked : " The language 
seems too common for a spirit, but I know there is a meaning. 
Time will make it clear." Not the faintest thought of what 
had really happened once occurred to me. In fact, The 
American Hotel had burned in Buffalo. Three wealthy 
prominent young men — volunteer firemen — working together 
most heroically, had, at half past two, been suffocated under 
falling walls. Every paper said that day — and even An- 
gola's early telegraphic message said: "These were our 
finest young men." It seems a minor question : How could 
a spirit know just what was to be said a little later, when 
there had been time for thinking and reporting? / was told 
not many minutes after the event. The spirit did not state 
that they were crushed beneath the falling timbers, for he 
knew their veritable selves were not; being immortal they 
had merely " gone to Heaven in a fiery chariot." 

Some weeks — I cannot say how long — before the final 
battles of the Rebellion, in my sleep I found myself upon an 
elevated porch, belonging to a house that I had never seen. I 
stood facing the South ; the porch ran East and West. Seven 
or eight steps led up to it upon my left hand; on my right 
there was an open door and I was conscious of a family 
within. Evidently this was a farmer's home, for houses were 
not visible near by. But all was recognizable, when, some 
four months later, I became a summer inmate of that very 



Independent Sight and Knowledge 113 

house. It would seem that I, in my sub-conscious roamings, 
had discovered it, and that I had been drawn by occult sym- 
pathy, although I had not even met one of the residents, nor 
heard of them. However that may be, after a time, in this 
my dream, I heard loud detonations from the far-off South, 
along a line indefinitely extended. I knew that battles were 
in progress which must be decisive, and that all was terrible, 
since even I, so far away, was almost deafened with the noise 
of cannonading. 

Suddenly all was still. Then a great light burst out from 
the horizon all along, that streamed far up the sky, in white 
and dazzling splendor. Shouting: "Victory! Victory! 
Victory! " I ran along the porch and entered where I 
thought the others were. " Victory ! Victory ! O, come 
out and see ! " No one responded. I ran back to look and 
wonder and exult. Then a curtain, black as blackest night, 
rolled down the whole wide South, and shut out all the glory 
from my vision — save a dazzling line along the horizon that 
proved it shining yet. Surely such a pall had never settled 
over victory before ! I stood and sighed and sighed : " There 
is a great disaster ! a great disaster ! " 

When awake I vainly wondered what enormous sorrow 
could befall us after all should have been gained. My 
thoughts not once approached the overwhelming truth. 

Objective vision? Yes, so far as landscape went, and the 
plain country house that was to be my summer home; — By 
prophecy, objective hearing also, with subjective consciousness 
of most momentous happenings to come. I heard the sounds 
that were not, but would shock the world thereafter. I saw 
" the light that never was on land or sea." 

But did I see and hear and partly comprehend without the 
aid of any sentinel-soul who " looked before and after," see- 
ing inevitable battles, and fore-seeing, after triumph, that in- 
evitable woe? Another or myself, it matters little; for the 
lowest soul ranks with the highest in possession of supernal 
powers. 

In view of these and other Psychic facts within my knowl- 
edge, I venture to put forth two other " universal postulates." 

There is a law of Mind enabling it to be aware of sounds 



114 A Psychic Autobiography, 

so far away that no vibration caused thereby can reach the 
mortal ear. 

There is a law of Mind enabling it to hear sounds non- 
existent, that will yet exist. 




XIII 

PHANTASM AND REALITY 

ALLUCINATIONS are not Psychic facts. 
They no more illustrate a soul than fogs 
illuminate a sunrise. One who is Mesmer- 
ized is, for the time, infirm; his outward 
consciousness is dulled or nullified; the 
functions of the brain are interfered with 
or usurped. The subject may have visions 
lusive or "veridical" (fine words are like fine manners, 
worthy of adoption!), — but must we lean on such a crippled 
creature, while we seek the heights? We might as well our- 
selves, by drugs or drink or inhalation, upset or over-rule our 
faculties, and watch phantasmagoria, — " wondering at the 
gods that we must be " to have such luminous minds! 

Happily I have escaped the hypnotizer and the drug dis- 
penser. I have not even " brushed with extreme flounce " 
the borders of Hysteria. Still I have thought it wise to scan 
my least occult experience with questioning eyes, lest, by 
some juggle, falsity should take the place of truth. Twice, I 
decided on the instant: " This is phantasmal! " only to learn 
that it was something more. 

One evening Levi, Lydia Brown and I were visiting by 
candle-light, because my head was paining me too much to 
bear a lamp. He, snuffing out the candle, left us for a min- 
ute in the dark. Into that darkness flashed an image of a 
child — a baby nine months old or thereabouts, and desperately 
sick. He was sitting up, but did not look at me nor manifest 
intelligence, as spirits do, and yet his face and attitude ex- 
pressed an infinite patience. Strangest of all, his lips were 
swollen and rolled outward, almost past belief — indicative, 
I told my friends " of frightful inflammation all along the 
alimentary tract." I finished my description — very definite 
as to coloring, size and general features — then said, not wait- 

115 



116 A Psychic Autobiography 

ing for a comment: " No such child could ever have existed. 
He was created by a tortured brain. The vision cannot be 
accounted for by me, on any other theory." 

Mrs. Brown, arising, left the room and presently came 
back with a daguerreotype. " Is that the child ? " she asked. 
" No, but it much resembles him, only this child is well." 

" This is George," she said, " when he was nine months 
old. We lost our oldest boy. Very few people know the 
fact; we never speak of him, — the trouble was too great for 
common talk. Unconsciously I caused his death. We had 
just built this house, and I was in a hurry to get settled in it. 
I painted all our inside wood-work, even to the floors, some- 
time before his birth. There are many rooms you know and 
he was poisoned thoroughly, though I escaped. It always 
seemed to me I was his murderer. Nothing could be more 
exact than your description. He lived nine months, and suf- 
fered horribly." 

I am aware that " scientists " may claim I took this vision 
from a parent's mind where it had lodged some twenty years 
before. I do not think so. I have learned of possibilities 
outside of mere telepathy. Remember we are being photo- 
graphed incessantly. Because of personal experience, I be- 
lieve a power of vision lies within the brain that may be ex- 
ercised without apparent eyes. Call it Psychometric sight or 
what you will; but I have little doubt I saw one of those 
radiographs the child had left behind. Being in a super- 
sensitive condition, I perceived what had existed actually, and 
did not need to pluck the vision from another's mind. In 
truth the child had lived within that very room, and left his 
impress there. 

The second time I called a vision nothing more than brain- 
creation, I was riding twenty miles across the hills of Cat- 
taraugus Co., in my native state. The scenery was very 
beautiful and took up my attention every moment. As we 
were going down a long slope toward a lovely valley, all illu- 
mined with a noon-day sun, I saw (not with my mortal eyes, 
which were wide open — all intent on seeing, but from my 
frontal brain an inch or more above) a living, breathing 
woman! She was dressed untidily, in rather pretty calico, 
both her sleeves rolled to the elbows, neck-band open to re- 



Phantasm and Reality 117 

veal the throat, hooks-and-eyes down to the waist, half 
broken, and the belt awry. She stood beside a door that 
opened toward me, her left hand — lifted rather high — clutch- 
ing the edge, her right hand resting on her hip. I took her 
in, even to the flying hair, with which her face was framed; 
and then I looked directly in her eyes. Large eyes, brown, 
bovine eyes, that looked in mine with curiosity, half-insolent, 
half-childish. Then she blushed, simpered and dropped her 
head, slipped out behind the door as if ashamed to stay, and 
disappeared. 

I said to my dear Margaret beside me : " How wonderful 
is the human brain! My own has just portrayed to me a 
woman who has no existence; — dressed her up in chocolate- 
colored calico, stamped with little roses; made her leer and 
simper just as though she were alive! What was she created 
out of, I should like to know? Certainly my brain created 
her." 

Margaret McMaster, sensible and sane and little given to 
Psychic speculations, though wholly tolerant of mine, replied : 
" There may be such a woman. You may see her while you 
are visiting your friends." 

Arriving at Horth's Corners, my companions stayed to 
dinner — leaving me for home at four o'clock. Mr. Howe 
said : " Please excuse me ; I must help my wife clear off the 
table," and left me quite alone. 

Very soon I heard the outer door being opened. Thinking 
he had returned, I said: "What! through already?" Then 
I turned about and saw that woman! Every item of her 
dress a reproduction of my vision — calico and broken hooks 
and rolled up sleeves and flying hair, in absolute similitude. 
Her left hand clutched the door, her right hand rested on 
her hip, and her brown, bovine eyes were looking into mine 
with impudent curiosity. She blushed, she simpered, dropped 
her head, slipped out behind the door and never showed her- 
self to me again. 

I ran out to the kitchen, crying: "Lyman! Sarah! I 
have seen a woman ! tell me all about her ! " I imagine they 
remember (for they both are living — somewhat older than 
myself). They said she had been all the morning hanging 
round, knowing I was expected and wanting to see a woman 



118 A Psychic Autobiography 

who had written books ; — looking exactly as I said she looked, 
with just this difference: She had not stood within an open 
door in such an attitude as I described, nor acted as I stated. 
What I had seen was in futurity. 

In fine, / saw the woman as she would be four hours after- 
ward. Not hypnotism, nor telepathy, nor clairvoyance can 
explain that fact. I perceived what had not been, what was 
not, what was yet to be ! The act, the attitude, the searching 
eyes that met my own, the varying expressions and the shy 
escape, either my prophetic spirit saw, or some prophetic spirit 
made me see. It is not vitally important one way or another 
who foreknew. We are all " as like as like! " 

What are phantasmal visions? How may we discriminate 
between them and reality? 

One morning in my early life I walked a mile along a 
lonely road. A man caught up with me who jumped from 
side to side, talking of snakes! — being an inebriate with de- 
lirium tremens who had just escaped from durance. 

I said: " Good morning! See how thick the dandelions 
are ! " He stared about as though aroused from sleep. 
" Why, yes! You're fond of flowers; and so am I." They 
occupied his eyes from that time till we parted. The snakes 
were swallowed up in air, as flames would be from burning 
alcohol. They were phantasmal wholly, therefore they flick- 
ered out. That which originates in mind is not so evanescent. 

A Boston lady — half a poet, fine as silk, a friend of mine 
at Clifton Water Cure in 1 859 — confided to me a momentous 
secret. Satan had come to her when she was twelve years 
old, in likeness of a serpent. He had stayed with her through 
nearly thirty years, and lately he had taken to whispering 
blasphemies. " And is he with you. now? " I asked. " Not 
very near. You keep him back, — you don't believe in him." 
" Then if you stop believing, he will go." She smiled en- 
chantingly: " You don't believe in him, my dear, because 
you are holy." And that was logic ! — or dementia, if you see 
a difference. 

Soon after that she died of brain-tuberculosis — dating back 
to childhood. One supposes that a serpent lurked in every 
tubercle. Yet, unavoidably one thinks of those " Subjective 
visions, whose ultimate manifestation is insanity." Now, fi 



Phantasm and Reality 119 

they were subjective, they must have followed her beyond the 
bounds of time; for the subjective mind lets nothing go, 
which it has seized upon. 

This is inconceivable — unthinkable. So are all theories 
that minimize the soul. Spencer would say : " Therefore 
their opposite is truth." 

These, then, are " universal postulates": 

A spirit, being indestructible, is never subject to disease. 

A spirit, being divine in essence, cannot justly be accused of 
sin, nor of proclivity to sin. 

A spirit, being free, may traverse every path according to 
desire, from earth to holiest Heaven, from holiest Heaven to 
earth. 

Meantime, there seems to be a simulacrum of the human 
soul, that has been called the " undersell." This floats 
within the sphere where elemental force encounters thought; 
— where each of us becomes, as I have said in verse : — 

Partaker with God in the infinite gain 
Of crush and fusion, passion and pain, 

When Mind and flesh are blended ; 
When the jubilant Sons of the suns draw near 
To watch where a Spirit, through gulfs of fear, 

Soars up — its conflict ended. 

This mimic self, at times, is like a cloud surcharged with 
rain. It threatens, terrifies or blesses, answers its needful 
purpose, then loses that apparent entity. It is your mood 
— whatever that may be, your wraith, your dopple-ganger, 
your abysmal self — your medium of interchange when others 
visit you ; your outward personality, your soul's interpreter — 
all these and more. 

It sports in every tempest, rides on every billow, answers 
to every call. This is the self that makes obeisance to the 
hypnotizer, that " puts a girdle round about the earth in 
forty minutes. It is your faithful servant if you live aright. 
If not, it may become your wicked master. 

He who said (or whose translator made him say) : " The 
soul that sinneth, it shall surely die," could mean no other 
than this underling that we mistake for spirit. Within its 



120 A Psychic Autobiography 

realm all cruel creeds are shaped, and many mortals are ob- 
sessed by them. Voice answers voice: " Escape the wrath 
to come ! " and they who warn us know not that the other 
name of wrath is Love. Here the seducer lurks, and mur- 
derers abide — defamers, hypocrites and usurers, who yet will 
slough iniquity and, having " peopled lowest Hell," will 
" angel highest Heaven ! " Here Cowper toiled through 
floods of doubt and dread, calling himself a " Castaway." 
Yet martyrs here, ruling this underself, are not afraid of 
lions, nor of stake and fagot, — having learned the " mystery 
of godliness " and being certain of eternal life. Martin 
Luther here, and Bunyan, met phantasmal devils, thinking 
them realities, and had redoubtable battles with their under- 
selves, — becoming spiritual giants, as we know. And here 
are those who are granted holy visions of celestial things 
(their underselves consenting), while others, standing near 
them, blindly wonder or deride. And here, as everywhere, 
the Deity is imminent for growth and consecration. 

Much of all this is over-deep for us. Just now we are 
looking out for fantasies — having discerned that lower world 
wherein they " make believe." Sometimes the soul itself 
consents to them, as who should say: " There is a face be- 
hind this mask, and you may guess the visage, if you can." 

Even an opium-slumberer will see the real at times, if 
clouds be not too black. The least reality is better than mere 
emptiness, we know. A friend of mine, deep-drugged and 
sleeping heavily, looked out, and saw a burglar wandering 
through the house. Last of all, he took a costly shawl, 
thrown down upon the parlor sofa, and slipped away with it. 
More to the purpose, she described him accurately next morn- 
ing, and he was actually traced from her description, caught, 
and jailed for that as well as other burglaries. 

De Quincy, in his opium-dreams, saw Oriental pageants, 
vast processionary multitudes, intent on idol-worship as it 
seemed. The poppies that betrayed him drew their potency 
from Eastern lands, trodden for many centuries by followers 
°f J u gg ern aut, the terrible. Perhaps they wrought with 
him, so that his larger self had Psychometric visions — nothing 
less than radiographs of what had been, perhaps, a thousand 
years before. That would be no more wonderful to me than 



Phantasm and Reality 121 

telepathie a trois, telekinesis, the mind of man " defeating 
gravitation," " neutralizing electricity," compelling fire to 
leave the face and hands unscorched while they were being 
bathed therein. And all this " scientists " have assented to, 
we have been told, so that we cannot murmur, if we would ! 
By all means let us learn about Psychometry! 

Agassiz, upon the brink of fever, so he tells us, spent a day 
or two assorting geologic specimens, and so absorbed their in- 
fluence, or was so affected by their stored up energy (the 
word is not mis-used), that during sickness, all the places 
where they had been found were visible to him. Some of 
those places were not known to him by sight, but were identi- 
fied thereafter. Mind did not originate those visions, more 
than the retina originates a landscape we are seeing. This 
also illustrates Psychometry; and I am Psychometric, as I 
mean to show you in another place. 

Nothing of this was known to Fitz Hugh Ludlow's under- 
self that ruled him without mercy for a time. Under hash- 
heesh, once he thought to scale the heaven of heavens; but 
dropped instead, and found himself within a senate chamber. 
All the senators — old women every one of them ! — were knit- 
ting busily old women like themselves. Whenever one was 
" toed-off," up she sprang, snatched knitting needles, sat her 
down, a full-blown senator like all the rest, and went to knit- 
ting senators. Convulsed with laughter, Ludlow felt him- 
self all ruffling up in stitches, and fled out and down — a-near 
to where they " smell the burning sulphur ; " — was shut into 
an iron cell whose red-hot walls, contracting as a terrific vise, 
closed in upon him; — a terrible vise indeed! 

And there you have phantasmal visions, — pathological, 
pathematic, neurasthenic — anything but Psychic! These dia- 
bolic brews are something heady: — Let us refresh ourselves 
with hippocras. 

There is a higher atmosphere than this, where — even as 
winds and clouds — illusions and realities commingle, each 
with each. Rarely tempestuous, they come and go and leave 
sweet health behind them. Just a little flutter of your wings, 
and there you are ! And there you have presentiments, telep- 
athies, thrills of prophetic apprehension or delight. A wife 
pleads : " Let that man alone ; he'll make you trouble ; " and 



122 A Psychic Autobiography 

the husband laughs and answers : " Better not be fanciful, 
my dear: — the man's all right," then, later, wishes he had 
taken her advice. A mother says: " I feel a rush of happi- 
ness. My boy is surely coming home," and in he comes be- 
fore the day is done. 

Now somewhere thereabout, I get symbolic visions. How 
they originate, I do not know — whether in my mind or in 
another's, so transferred to mine. 

They show me curiously what is about to happen. Though 
I get the sense of them at once, full half the time I must await 
the happening for a perfect understanding. Some of these 
are truly beautiful and wonderful to me; others (not many) 
are grotesque, absurd; but one and all have singular signifi- 
cance. The former I shall dwell upon in due connection; 
but to be wholly fair, I choose one now so foolish you will 
think I am reduced, as Alice was in Wonderland, almost to 
nothingness. Get out your microscopes and take a look 
at me. 

I awoke at sunrise. Through or from my brain, I saw, 
beside my bed, a handsome — cow ! Beneath her was a foam- 
ing pail of milk. I said : " Why, that must mean that I 
shall get the funds I need for my inventions ! " Therefore I 
was glad ! This was in New York, long time ago, at the old 
Laight Street Hygienic Home. After breakfast came a let- 
ter with a handsome check. I gave it to the clerk and said : 
" Please have it cashed and take out ninety dollars for my 
board." Next morning, I awoke again at sunrise, and there, 
close to my bed, stood that dejected cow! " — the brimming 
pail had vanished! Some one said (inaudibly, you under- 
stand ) : " That is not a good cow." I answered mentally : 
" It is." Another spoke, " It isn't a good cow! " " I know 
it is! " " And / say, it is not" replied a third. Then after 
pause : " Why, after all, it is a good cow ! You were right." 

Coming out from breakfast, I was accosted rather brusquely 
by Mr. Harvey: " Miss Jones, your check's not good. 
Three banks have thrown it out." However, after I had 
telegraphed, I learned that, by mistake, the sender drew it on 
a bank from which he had just withdrawn his funds; and so 
my check was cashed that afternoon. 

We needn't mind a little foolishness, since that belongs to 



Phantasm and Reality 123 

infancy: What I object to is blank idiocy! A half-grown 
imbecile at Clifton, taking an electric bath, delighted her poor 
mother with a mental gleam. She said it " pinched." But 
I have met with those — not idiots — who felt no " pinch " 
from any spiritual dynamo; or if they felt it, would assure 
you positively that it was due to " summat wrong wi' their 
own inside." 

Well, Dr. Hudson tried self-hypnotism once — the only 
personal experience he gives us; and to show that he was 
greater than he knew, I quote : " I caused myself to be se- 
curely blindfolded in presence of my family and two or 
three trustworthy friends, instructed them to draw a card 
from the pack, place it upon a table, face up, in full view of 
all but myself. I enjoined absolute silence, and requested 
them to gaze steadily upon the card and patiently await re- 
sults. I determined not to yield to any mere mental impres- 
sion, but to watch for a vision of the card itself." 

With all those eyes concentered on that card and all those 
minds concentered on himself, according to his most insistent 
reasoning he should have seen — the card! He says instead: 
" The moment I approached the state of somnolency I began 
to see visions of self-illuminated objects floating in the dark 
before me. If, however, one seemed to be taking definite 
shape, it would instantly rouse me, and the vision would van- 
ish. At length I mastered my curiosity sufficiently to enable 
me to hold the vision long enough to perceive its import. 
When that was accomplished I saw — not a card with its 
spots clearly defined, but a number of objects arranged in 
rows and resembling real diamonds. I was finally able to 
count them and there were ten; I ventured to name the ten 
of diamonds." This was correct and so he tried once more 
and rightly named the ace of hearts, but did not see the card. 
Aside from other proofs he had already, this personal experi- 
ence "convinced" him of telepathy! Verily if I had been 
convinced of spirit-intercourse upon a proof so slight, to bor- 
row Huxley's words, I should have merited " the inextin- 
guishable laughter of the gods ! " 

Where was the telepathy? He did not see what others 
saw and tried to make him see. Each looker-on was saying 
to himself: "There lies the ten of diamonds" — just a 



124 A Psychic Autobiography 

common card ! No one thought of jewels, each one kept his 
outward eye upon the card (face uppermost), and the " per- 
cipient " saw not, heard not, had no telepathic message: — just 
stood out alone in mental grandeur, had his " independent 
vision " and was satisfied ; and " every one applauded." " It 
was symbolical," he says. Possibly this may not be a Psychic 
seeing; but it seems to squint in that direction. I incline to 
think if he had put himself in " training " he might have 
realized clairvoyance — " properly so called " — as I have done 
repeatedly. 

This for example: — being fast asleep, without self-hypno- 
tism. On my second visit to my good friends, Lyman C. and 
Sarah Howe, I found another bed had been set up within 
my sleeping room. The housekeeper, who occupied it, was 
solicitous lest I should be disturbed the night of July 4th — a 
ball being in progress at the tavern on the corner, twenty rods 
away; and so she shut both windows to keep out the noise, 
and drew down two green curtains to shut in our light. All 
our air came from the hall which had an eastern out-look. 
Next morning I was late at breakfast, and a little dull from 
heavy sleeping. Said my host : " Were you disturbed by 
what was going on?" "Not at all," I answered; "only 
just at daylight. Then a man was talking in the blacksmith's 
yard, and I looked out and saw him, — no one whom I knew. 
He was standing facing me, in a democrat wagon without 
seats. Then he wheeled and drove out, laughing and talking 
with the blacksmith. He drove up to the tavern steps and 
seven or eight young men came out, climbed in and stood up, 
holding by each other, while the man drove off and up the 
hill. The fellows had been drinking, judging by their looks." 
As I related this, I had no thought that it was just a dream. 
Horace, fourteen years of age, remarked : " I was up at 
early daylight and standing in the garden, so I saw it all. 
There's just one democrat-wagon in the place, and so our 
neighbor was called out of bed to take the young men to an- 
other tavern for another dance tonight. I counted seven of 
them — half drunk, I thought." 

"When did you see all that?" my room-mate asked. 
" Just at daylight." " Well," she answered, " I awoke at 
three o'clock, and did not sleep until I rose at eight; and I 



Phantasm and Reality 125 

can testify you never raised your head. And, if you had, 
there's not a window in the second story out of which you 
could have seen one thing you have described ! " This was 
exactly true. 

I remember that I lifted up my head and looked into the 
blacksmith's yard; the intervening wall I did not see, but 
even yet I can recall the features of the man who faced me 
from the democrat wagon. Horace saw what / saw from a 
different point of view. If I had seen because he saw, the 
driver would have been in profile and the blacksmith's shop 
upon the East, instead of on the North. And what had I to 
do with Horace, anyway? 

You think such dreams not worth considering? That's 
your — poor — little — think! 



XIV 
FRIENDS ON GUARD 



F 


Ll| 



HERE is nothing great or small," a poet 
sings ; and since the Scientists have taken to 
weighing atoms (out-doing those astron- 
omers who only weigh the suns), we may 
assume, at least, that there is nothing small. 
So borrowing your " Philosopher's scales," 
Jane Taylor, we'll " bowl the whole world 
in at the grate " and find it underweighs the least of all our 
Psychic facts. Let us go on relating them. 

One autumn day in 1862 (save for some leaps ahead, we 
have got no further in our calendar), I was depressed and 
found I could not write a line of verse. That fact alone dis- 
heartened me. Just then, by rare revival of an art I had 
almost fancied lost, my hand was " influenced " to write. 
Could I have had my choice, something inspiring would have 
been revealed, to lift me into higher moods. Only this came, 
without a signature: 

" Put on your things, go to Niagara Street, and take the 
horse-car. Ride to Main Street, then get off, go down upon 
the right hand side, and something pleasant will occur." 

I followed the suggestion, though it seemed absurdly triv- 
ial. I thought so slightly of it, that I let the curious message 
slip from memory. Still, when the car stopped, as always, at 
Niagara and Main, in utter absent-mindedness, without a 
purpose, I got off and walked instinctively toward the lake, 
upon the right hand side. 

Two or three blocks along, I met my friend Lavinia's 
brother, Major Ira Aver — who, being wounded, was at home 
on furlough. He had known me eight years earlier when his 
friendly mother, thinking the country air would do me good, 
had sent for me, and I had been her guest. Detained in Buf- 
falo for hospital care, he had sought me out, and I had made 

126 



Friends on Guard 127 

him tell me all he would about the seven days' fighting before 
Richmond. For recompense, I had dedicated to his regiment 
" The Battle of Gaines' Hill," which had appeared with 
illustration in Frank Leslie's Weekly — then a mammoth pub- 
lication, read by every soldier, one might say. 

The Major stopped me eagerly: "I am ordered to the 
front this morning, and must leave at three o'clock. Come 
to Aunt Sarah Lamb's with me. You know she is always 
glad to see you." 

Well, that was pleasant, certainly; but when he brought 
me from her parlor table a handsome book of special value, 
inscribed already with my name, I found that pleasanter. 
Yet pleasantest of all was the delightful certainty that some 
one "disembodied" (if you choose to use the word), had 
tried to make my undeserving soul a little happier. I did 
not ask w ho wrote, for that was not my way. I did not even 
surmise; but it occurs to me, just now, that Ira's mother, 
knowing him to be a little troubled because he had no time 
to visit me, and bring the book as he intended, for his sake 
may have sent me after it. It had been her custom, I learned 
when I was honored with her hospitality, to " watch out " 
in the interests of others. Nothing was too small to think 
about or plan for, so it were helpful to her family. 

No matter who, however! Notice: Some one had calcu- 
lated time with fine precision. Just so many minutes to get 
ready, just so many for the ride to Main Street, just so many 
on the Major's part to meet me just in season! 

What can a spirit know about chronometers and horo- 
loges? Far more than you or I, it may be possible. It has 
been supposed that there are worlds invisible within those 
which to us are visible. If so, they are beauteous archetypes 
— we have a right perhaps to call them spirit-worlds. They 
are not supposed to be imponderable (we are weighing atoms 
now, you know), but fine enough to answer all the uses of a 
spirit who is not yet ready to soar out and ransack higher 
realms. These worlds are habitable to souls, dwelling in 
" spiritual bodies " as earth is habitable to souls dwelling in 
earthly bodies. That being so, they must revolve in unison 
with times and seasons, which, by God's decree, they have en- 
forced upon their fellow-orbs. 



128 A Psychic Autobiography 

Eternity is Time — without an end; and time is always 
measurable. Therefore our friends may have their silver- 
sounding clocks as well as we, keeping the self-same hours. 
That theory, could it subsist in fact, would bring our happy 
Dead so close to us, disseverance would seem imaginary. 

" In my Father's House are many mansions. If it were 
not so, I would have told you." 

City life being unfavorable to poetry, I Spent much of my 
time from 1861 to 1868 in Cattaraugus County and out 
among the farmers West of Buffalo some twenty miles or 
more. I made myself a little useful, teaching music here and 
there, and had my quiet rooms and pleasant haunts about the 
waterfalls or in the fields and orchards. Often dear friends 
would come and take possession of me for a visit, keeping me 
as long as I could stay. Some of these families (descended 
from the Quakers), called themselves " Progressive Friends." 

In April, 1862, a friend in Erie County solicited a visit. 
Her husband was an army officer and in his absence she was 
living with her widowed father — his other daughters being 
away at college. I had been a guest during the mother's life 
and I was cheered at thought of visiting again such dear, 
congenial friends — not Spiritualists by the way — who had 
thought enough of me to drive into the City purposely, and 
take me home with them. After supper, we gathered round 
the fireplace — my friend, her father and nryself — and chatted 
merrily of former times. We did not speak of her who had 
been my hostess once, having already spoken quite enough; 
but she was in my mind from first to last. To me her per- 
sonality had seemed compelling. Froude, in writing of the 
world's affairs, observes that women, more than men, have, 
on the whole peculiar " aptitude for sovereignty." This she 
exemplified at home, as mother, wife or hostess. 

No one resisted her — assuredly not her husband. Loving 
greatly she was greatly loved and reverently obeyed. 

But once — believing me to be a medium — she had caused 
me poignant suffering. Glad am I that I have never been 
one of those mediums at large! (" Pray for their souls all 
Christian gentlemen! ") On the morning after my arrival, 
she had called her family together and, it being Sunday, had 
bidden them stay at home from church that we might hold 



Friends on Guard 129 

a " circle " — quite without consulting me. I think her 
strong desire had overcome her conscience. She was a Meth- 
odist " dyed in the wool," as father used to say, — but evi- 
dently thought for once it might be pardoned if she leaned 
across the pale to smell her neighbor's flowers. 

She carefully explained to me: " My first child died 
when he was two years old. I never yet have felt resigned. 
I want some proof that he can visit me. You are an invalid 
and ought not to be taxed; but you have only known our 
daughter and she has never mentioned him to you she says. 
I ask for nothing but his name." 

I thought a child who had died at two, could hardly write 
his name; but trusted some one else might write it for him. 
Usually, in " automatic writing," the name had come before 
the message, so I had little doubt; and seven of us sat down 
to wait for it. 

Now I know as well as you, my patient friends, that six 
minds, brought to bear on mine, all dwelling on that baby's 
name, might be one way of thrusting it upon my conscious- 
ness; though, please remember, just as many minds being 
brought to bear on Hudson's, could not make him see a single 
card, or even impress its name by telepathic means (and 
rather slender means they are, judging by my experience!). 
He guessed the " ten of diamonds " all by his underself, — or 
let us say by sheer subjective symbolism — evidence of mind 
on his part, not on theirs. 

However, let that pass ! A name was written in this case, 
almost immediately. I said in all sincerity: " Some man is 
writing whom perhaps you know. He calls himself ' Lowe 
Bradley.' " I said Low — as in the word allow. 

The lady reached out for the sheet as hardly crediting the 
fact; then cried " My baby boy! My own Lowe-Bradley," 
using the long "o." Since the family name had not been 
written, it had not seemed to me a possible baby's name. 
Then up she rose and paced the room and wrung her hands 
and tossed her arms, reiterating many times: "Is my baby 
here? Satan can make himself appear an angel. Is he de- 
ceiving me? or is it really Lowe-Bradley; How can I ever 
know ? " 

Ah, sure enough! How could she? I had never seen 



130 A Psychic Autobiography 

that kind of thing before (imagine mother in hysteria!) ; I 
suffered deep distress. 

But never think this violently loving mother was not sane, 
and even intellectual. Remember how John Wesley, whom 
she humbly followed, never scrupled to declare his faith in — 
I had almost said his knowledge of — a rampant, personal 
devil. Remember Cotton Mather, Jonathan Edwards, and 
a host of mighty spiritual warriors — verily their name is 
legion ! — all contending with their underselves, and every 
one instructing Christian souls like that of this dear, gifted 
lady, in the mysteries of demonology! Even / recall a time 
when it was hardly thought respectable not to believe in 
Satan ! 

Early Spiritualism had this element to deal with. For 
example: A worthy neighbor — Sally Doolittle — in 1852, 
became a " writing medium," much to the satisfaction of her 
household. But one day the name was written of a former 
friend, who had committed suicide. Trembling with appre- 
hension, she yet contrived to ask: "Are you in hell?" 
Getting no response, but getting a prodigious arm-ache (due 
to interrupted currents, if you please), what could she infer 
but that he was in hell ? We may presume that if some old- 
time friend had come to her — not being " dead," of course, — ■ 
she never would have thought to ask: "Have you just 
broken jail?" Even a spirit is entitled to civility. People 
did not always think of that " when / was young " ! 

I am not forgetful of the title of my chapter, although I 
interject an object lesson. To return to that long dining 
room, where had been held that memorable circle years be- 
fore ; we three sat chatting by the fire till ten o'clock, as cheer- 
ful as we well could be with all those battle-echoes audible to 
soul if not to sense, — my brother William and Lavinia's hus- 
band both in line of battle! Till, at last, we spoke of sleep 
and Libbie brought the lamps. 

I noticed her with favor. Just a " hired girl," but tall 
and handsome, with a dignity beyond her twenty years; very 
poor, I learned a little later, — her mother's main dependence. 
My hostess introduced her as an equal, though she herself 
was college-bred and passionately fond of Greek. 

Well, Libbie brought the lamps, and I was led away. 



Friends on Guard 131 

" All these rooms were built since Mother died," my friend 
remarked and added sweetly : " This room is for you when- 
ever you will come and occupy it." So she left me, com- 
forted with friendship. 

Observe: If we send out our radium-emanations, alpha 
rays or whatsoever — little " projectiles " that bombard the 
very walls about us — they may recoil and yet again recoil, 
bombarding all who come where we have been, till their 
kinetic energy is spent; — and when that may be who can 
guess? But these including walls had never held the mother 
of my friend. Not even a radiograph of her could flash out 
in the dark, confronting me with pallid face and anxious 
eyes to prove that she had lived. 

No, I had not slept; I had not even begun to breathe 
a little slowly, before I was aware of her. Not in my 
room at first, but in the lower hall. She floated up — she did 
not climb the stairs. I noticed that, and yet I hardly dare 
to say I saw her. There was no self-illumination. Have 
you seen a friend by star-light? That was how it seemed. 
My door was closed against her, but she effected entrance 
easily, as though it were not there. She might have come as 
well some other way, no doubt, but she was yet conventional 
enough, it seemed, to choose the door. Tall as of old, and 
" slim and swift," in Charlotte Bronte's words, as any 
" Northern Streamer," in she came, paused at the foot, then 
passed around my bed and leaned above me. Never before 
nor since, in all my waking hours, did any spirit-form ap- 
proach so near to sensible touch ! I thought : " She 
breathes ! " — I almost heard her breathe ! 

" You are needed in this house. I want you to exert an 
influence. Will you do for me whatever I may ask? " 

Forty-seven years have passed and I have known of spirits 
many times. She is the only one that ever made me tremble. 
I answered : " I will do for you whatever you require, if it 
shall seem to me entirely right." Not that I doubted her in- 
tegrity; but I must guard my own. 

She turned away, went out, and seemed to sink along the 
stairway to the lower floor. She drew my consciousness along; 
whether I saw or did not see (in truth I hardly know), 
I followed every movement. " She has gone into a room 



132 A Psychic Autobiography 

that seems just under this — it must be there's a passage to it 
from the dining-room, not from the hall," — (it proved to be 
her daughter's room). "Now she is gliding through the 
passage, she is in the dining-room. She is entering an open 
door half-way along. I remember; there is the bed-room 
where I used to sleep. I must watch till she comes out." 

Two or three hours perhaps went by. I drowsed away 
at last, repeating: " She is in that bed-room still." I woke 
at early dawn and thought with certainty: " She is in that 
bed-room now! " 

Presently I rose and dressed myself. " At least, I can 
escape," I said. " This is Sunday morning; and no one will 
be up so early. I shall have time to go and hunt for wild- 
flowers. The woods are close at hand." So I wrapped up 
well, slipped down the stairs, went, through the long room 
where we had supped, on tiptoe past the bed-room door. 
Impossible not to turn my head ; for there my host stood, just 
within, hands clasped, and looking downward, deep in 
thought. He saw, and hurried out. " I am very glad to 
see you. Please sit down." He drew an easy chair for me 
and chose another for himself. " I want to talk with you. 
I have not slept a moment! My wife" — he paused and 
changed the form punctiliously, striving to be exact. " That 

is " — Mrs. has been with me all night." Like a 

strong tree caught in a gale, his vigorous religious prejudice 
had bowed under his recognition of her potent presence. 

Just here I ought, perhaps, to end the story, for if an " in- 
fluence " came to me from her, thereafter, I " was not aware 
of it." Still, no one is left except myself to answer for a 
spirit's good intent; and having told so much because it 
seemed I must, I tell a little more because it seems I may. 
Both my host and hostess volunteered their confidence that 
day, from different motives, asking my advice and influence. 
I was neutral as an acid charged with alkali. Yet my neu- 
trality was influence. It hindered action. 

Quite within his rights, and not at all to his discredit, he 
had proffered marriage to — the " hired girl." And now he 
found, to his dismay, that her acceptance would disrupt his 
family. Children would stay away from home (" the worse 
for them! " I thought) ; and, save for Libbie, little would be 



Friends on Guard 133 

left. He might retract, but there was manly honor — she 
must not even know that there was trouble brewing. Besides 
— what would you have ? He really thought himself in love. 

But Libbie had not yet accepted him. She had asked for 
time. She must consult her mother, twenty miles away — 
whose poverty afflicted her. Meantime my host had little 
doubt of her acceptance; neither had my kindly hostess, who 
recognized, with charity, " a great temptation." Libbie, her- 
self, after some weeks, consulted me with secrecy. Was it 
her duty to accept the offer? It seemed her mother thought 
so, — and there were little sisters. And then I did, quite of 
my own volition I suppose, what seemed to me " entirely 
right." Not having so much aristocracy as might serve for 
stiffening of a paper napkin, I answered her in this wise: 
" Libbie, I believe in you. When you are ready to marry 
some one about your age (and half as good as you I hope), 
invite me to the wedding. Meantime your mother isn't go- 
ing to starve and you're not going to live a lie! I have no 
respect for one who marries without love ; but understand, to 
be a hired girl is altogether honorable." 

Libbie rose up and laughed and kissed me. " I can earn 
enough to feed my mother, thank the Lord ! " — so went 
quickly out and told her suitor " No." All the same she 
did not lose her " honorable " place within his house. 

I said that spirit-wife and mother did not visit me again; — 
there was no need. Not for her sake alone I did her service 
from afar, — aware that I was furthering her righteous pur- 
poses, though not by her immediate command. Let it be 
added that some two years later, he who had been her hus- 
band, married — to his children's satisfaction. I wish you 
would let me quote a sentence from Disraeli — I so admire 
the style : " So Peace descended upon that often-perplexed 
but always well-meaning roof." 

About that underself ! Do you suppose it will not be our 
faithful servant in the life to come? A little while, if we 
be terrible, it may be master, surely not for long. I have 
heard that spirits have been known to come mouthing pro- 
fanities; but presently they slunk away ashamed. We need 
not be afraid of such ; they cannot do us hurt ; perhaps they 
come, out of those caverns where they breathe mephitic airs, 



134 A Psychic Autobiography 

that we may do them good ; and they may learn from us, who 
roam in pleasant fields, to drink sweet waters trickling here 
and there among our violets. 

But understand, such visitations are not Psychic in the 
higher sense. I have been told a man has lived with half his 
brain removed ; but would he represent the man " infinite in 
faculties," "in action like an angel," " in apprehension like 
a god ? " Still less could any dominant underself — an infra- 
spiritual pseudo-entity — stand in the place of an immortal 
soul. 

The spirit-lady I have told you of, brought in to me, for 
Psycho-service, just that underself I had realized of old. 
By that I knew her perfectly. It was a personality that 
could not be mistaken. We are not spirits only — we are per- 
sons. We encompass all. 

You think she was unblest, because unquiet? Surely not. 
Happy or sorrowful, inquietude belonged to her, — it was her 
special gift. No doubt she had her holy haunts, and beautiful 
associates, talking of holy things as she had always done — but 
with increase of knowledge and delight. Still, when dissen- 
sion threatened to divide her husband from his children, what 
could she do but turn and seek her own? Once there, only 
by taking on the olden moods, could she effect her reconciling 
purpose. I felt her sharp anxiety, I recognized her force of 
will, her " aptitude for sovereignty " and, more than all, her 
unimpugnable love. She came as a strong wind, that blows 
through stagnant atmospheres, to pass and leave them sweet. 
Assuredly she was blest. 

As for us, we learn our Psychic lessons: How shall we 
get wisdom otherwise? Certain it is these other-world re- 
vealments are not more foreign to humanity than seeds are 
foreign to the soil in which they germinate. They are the 
rarest inflorescence of our life. They are as cacti of the 
desert, lilies of the meadow, healing herbs along the mountain 
side, white orchids of the air. 

We cannot force their blossoming time. If we have need 
of flowers we do not pull out plants to get at them; but we 
can " set the dibble in earth " to lift the roots and put them 
in our gardens. 

And must you call them weeds? 



XV 

WAYS OF PLEASANTNESS 




F all the revelations mortals have received 
from angels, " should be written every one, 
I suppose the world itself could not contain 
the books that should be written." " The 
least of Psychic facts," I said — some pages 
back. We might say as well : " The least 
of cosmic stars : " — then train our telescopes 
upon them, and discover suns of girth immeasurable. What 
concerns a soul cannot be counted small ; for is not any soul 
greater than every sun ? 

But say that we ourselves are small, no more than mere 
atomic germs of soul, late-quickened of the Lord and des- 
tined to celestial growth — ■ not by accretion, but by perpetual 
forth-putting and inclusion. Now, physical atoms, it has 
been discovered (Svante Arrhenius, I read, has demonstrated 
this), may be so small that " particles of light," colliding with 
them, press them far beyond the pull of gravitation into ethe- 
real space (and oh, to follow them along their luminous 
track!). There I suppose each one — being necessary to 
God's material (and spiritual) universe — is recognized as 
great. Let us call our revelations " particles of light," and 
if, at last, they press against us mightily and we go soaring 
off — so that we soar together (God takes care of that!), 
what more can we desire ? 

In April, 1862, while visiting my country friends, word 
came to me that a young girl, who was dying of consumption, 
wanted me to visit her. I found her lying in a pleasant par- 
lor, so secluded you could hardly realize a world beyond the 
orchard. Only seventeen, her girlish loveliness defaced — 
and yet she had one beauty left. Her heavy curls were 
massed upon her breast that hardly stirred beneath their 
weight. In Robert Browning's words : " She had her great, 

135 



136 A Psychic Autobiography 

gold hair! " But all her soul was quivering to escape, like 
an imprisoned bird. 

" I have been told," she said, " that you're a medium. 
Will you tell me when I am going to die? " 

" Dear child, I am just a common mortal. I could not 
tell you of myself." 

" No, but you might get a spirit to tell you." 

" But you can see that if we try to influence spirits, we are 
simply making it impossible for them to influence us." 

" Yes, I see," she murmured patiently: " But you may be 
impressed to know. And, if you are, you'll tell me, will you 
not? " 

So twice a day I visited sweet Mary Hard and twice a 
day she questioned : " Have you been impressed ? " 

One morning I sat down beside her and she did not ask 
her usual question, save with her asking eyes. I had heard 
of Mary's sister Frances, who had passed away two years be- 
fore, a victim of the same disease. Now Frankie came, and 
satisfied the dying girl at last. She did not deeply influence 
me, — at least my eyes were open — usually (though I am al- 
ways conscious), they are shut and sealed. Frankie said, in 
part: " We are all rejoicing, for the time is close at hand! " 
"Not many days?" sighed Mary wistfully. "Not many 
hours! " — with such a voice you might have said she laughed ! 
My voice, and yet not mine in sound or cadence: Frankie 
said the words. 

Mary's eyes were wonderful. I never saw delight so 
manifest. I asked her aunt on leaving: " Do you think the 
time is near?" She shook her head. "There is no sign 
of it." 

But six hours later I went in, and Mary only smiled. The 
brightness of her eyes astonished me. It seemed she would 
not close them, — bent on taking one last look. They did not 
cease to shine till some one closed them for her — not immedi- 
ately. / saw the happy soul look through those windows 
after the " keepers of the house " had " trembled " and " the 
doors were shut." 

It came about that Mary's guardians, George and Fondana 
Bundy, made very much of mt> and had me with them often 
— truly to my advantage, for their homestead-farm was conse- 



Ways of Pleasantness 137 

crate to rest. And more than this: If ever spirits visit 
mortals, seeking recognition, spirits had visited these friends 
of mine, long years before I knew them. I was amazed to 
learn the depth of their experience, until I also learned how 
they excelled in all those gracious qualities St. Paul ascribes 
to Charity; — for such invite the blest. 

Without the slightest prompting from the outer world, in 
1849 they had emerged from Calvinistic mazes, and, in the 
sanctitude of home, had broken bread with angels. So it 
seemed to them, and so it seems to me. I could not see in 
them the least fanaticism, nor any trace of ignorant credulity. 
Having two children only, they — just working people! — had 
given homes to many, chiefly to Mrs. Bundy's father, mother, 
invalid sister Lucy, widowed brother and his three orphaned 
children. Of these the father and the widowed brother 
" died " before the others blossomed into Spiritualists. 

Now when the father found he was to go, he called his 
children in and laid this charge upon them : " Never let 
your mother sleep beyond your hearing. You know she is 
liable to die of nightmare any night. Train yourselves to 
waken at the slightest sound. Spring to her side and grip 
her by the wrists, then shout with all your might, right in 
her ear: Nancy! That will bring her out, when nothing 
else can save her." 

Permit a slight digression: Thirty-two years before that 
day — she being thirty at the time — Nancy Hard had lain 
some months close to the gates of death, with what the doc- 
tors called " brain fever." " I shall not come again " the 
last one said : " There is nothing more to do." A dear, old 
woman had been watching her, who, I am fain to think, be- 
came inspired (as once my mother was, when the last hope of 
saving brother Willie's life seemed gone!). It "came" to 
her, she said, what she must do. She gathered plantain leaves 
in haste, poured boiling water on them, and, often changing 
them, she kept that shrunken body wrapped in them three 
days: — a sort of Priessnitz pack, you understand, before 
great Priessnitz made his great discovery. I met her patient 
first when she was seventy-six, a little younger than rrtyself, 
it seemed — I being twenty-seven ! I played for her to dance 



138 A Psychic Autobiography 

one day. She took her steps, as Queen Elizabeth did — 
" high and disposedly! " 

But ever after that recovery, from 1817 to 1849 — she had, 
occasionally, dangerous nightmares; and please to let me tell 
you from her very lips what happened finally. 

Not my experience, you suggest? No, but I made it 



" For she looked with such a look and she spake with such a 
tone, 
That I almost received her heart into my own." 

First, Lucy Hard became a writing medium. Notice that 
mediumship and invalidism may co-exist, as intellect and 
invalidism may, — not of necessity in either case. Lucy's 
mother looked askance. Dear lady! she was sixty-two, 
and bred a Presbyterian. She asked for no communications 
from her husband. He was safe in Heaven — and who could 
tell what Satan might pretend? 

One day Dr. and Mrs. Marvin (fellow-doctors) hurried 
in. They had built a Water-cure and wanted Lucy for a 
patient. Just then they wanted " Grandma Hard " to spend 
a night with them, while they were yet alone. Flattered and 
pleased — for they were virtual strangers — Grandma rode 
away. In the flurry, I am glad to say, nobody thought of 
nightmares. When bedtime came, her hostess led her through 
an upper hall, ten rooms away from all the family. 

Early the following morning Lucy's father wrote a mes- 
sage to his daughters. Because of frequent hearing and an 
excellent memory, I am able to transcribe it practically word 
for word: 

" Last night your mother had the nightmare. But for me 
she would have died. The blood had almost ceased to circu- 
late around her heart. She saw me and she knows I saved 
her. Give yourselves no further trouble. She shall never 
have the nightmare after this, I promise you, long as she lives 
on earth ! " 

Grandma Hard came home that afternoon, seeming, as 
Mrs. Bundy told me, rather " flustered " — not her usual, 
quiet self. " We did not dare to show the writing," said 



Ways of Pleasantness 139 

her daughter. " First we let her tell her story, then we 
brought the message, and she read it. That ended all her 
opposition ! " 

Now, I shall tell just what had happened, in her very 
words, addressed to me — repeated many times. 

" That night I had the nightmare worse than I ever had 
it in my life. I knew that I was dying. But my husband 
stepped up to the bed and gripped my wrists and shouted 
' NANCY !' in my ear, with all his might. Then I came out 
of it; and then he said to me: ' Now, Nancy, I've done this 
to prove that I am with you, and am able to take care of you 
as well as ever. But do not be afraid of nightmare after this. 
I promise you shall never have it while you live on earth.' " 

To this account, for emphasis, she always added : — " No- 
body need tell me it was not my husband ; for it was ! I saw 
him step up to the bed, and felt his hands grip both my wrists 
and heard him shout my name and heard just what he said. 
What's more I've never had the nightmare from that day to 
this, and that was fourteen years ago ! " Nor did she have 
it ever afterward through seven added years. 

Thirty-two years subject to dreadful nightmares — twenty- 
one years immune. She died at eighty-three.* 

What good can spirits do? — Well, by and bye, I shall 
begin to tell you. 

Meantime, although in truth not my experience, I do not 
like to pass entirely by the case of Lucy Hard — substantiated 
by the statements of the Bundy family, her physicians, a Pres- 
byterian deacon, and certain neighbors much averse to Spir- 
itualism; also others, including Lucy's husband, whom she 
married some few months before her death. 

From writing-mediumship she took to having trances; be- 
ing at Mr Bundy's, yet unmarried. Was she self hypnotized ? 
Certainly there was no visible hypnotizer. Who says the 
mind lacks outward vision, — cannot see the physical universe 
save by suggestion? Lucy's outward, so-called natural eyes, 
were, in these trances, sealed from sight as though they had 
been put out. She roamed without attendance — hardly with 
attention. She never tripped, she never lost her way. She 
climbed the orchard trees and sat for hours among the 

* See Appendix III. 



140 A Psychic Autobiography 

branches (watched, at times, by curious neighbors) — then 
came in and said : " The trees give out a magnetism. Lucy 
is filled with it." " Lucy wants an apple. She is hungry; 
we must feed her. Down in the cellar in the farthest bin, 
close to the side, there is a red-streaked apple, largest and 
mellowest of them all." Down went sleeping Lucy in the 
dark, alone, and brought that chosen apple back. Being in 
Dr. Marvin's Water Cure, and having hemorrhage of the 
lungs, she said to him (this is exactly what he told me) : 
"Lucy must be given Hamamelis!" "There is no such 
medicine," said Dr. Marvin; " I never heard of it." " You 
have a vial of it. Move your medicine bottles and you'll 
find it." 

With not a bit of faith, except in Lucy, the bottles were 
removed, and — dropped behind them all — was found a little 
package, labeled under the wrapper, Hamamelis. Then Dr. 
Marvin had a memory of visiting Dr. Gray, a Homoeopath, 
of Buffalo, a year or two before, who had handed him the 
package, saying: " Here's a new remedy for hemorrhage — 
Hamamelis. Try it and report." 

But previous to this, while under care at home before her 
marriage, Lucy, in trance, had said: " Lucy, when a baby, 
was given poisonous drugs by ignorant doctors, and greatly 
injured by them. Ever since, they have kept it up. Minerals 
are scattered through her body everywhere ; the worst of these 
is sugar-of-lead. That is why she suffers so much pain. 
Lucy can't get well, but all this suffering must be stopped. 
The poisons must be driven out. We will begin on sugar-of- 
lead. First give her Homoeopathic doses of the poison for 
about two weeks. That will rouse those dormant particles 
into action. When that is done, have ready plates of strongly 
magnetized metal, and bind them on her feet. Leave us to 
do the rest." [Who were " us " ?] 

Aside from all the other testimony, I had the solemn affir- 
mation of her brother Ezra — the Presbyterian deacon! He, 
himself, went out to Buffalo, had the plates or sheets made 
as directed, brought them home and bound them on her feet. 
" For three days Lucy lay asleep," he told me, " and did not 
speak nor move. When she awoke, I took away the sheets 
and found a full eighth-inch of coating on them. I took them 



Ways of Pleasantness 141 

back to Buffalo and had the coating scraped away and an- 
alyzed by scientific experts. They pronounced it absolutely 
sugar-of-lead." 

Well, that's not half so unbelievable as telepathie a trois! 
Prove as clearly but a single case of thrice transferred telep- 
athy, you'd make its advocates faint dead away from sheer 
astonishment ! 

Lucy was freed from pain thereafter; frail as a lily, but 
" happy all day long." Marrying Dr. Marvin's brother-in- 
law, her husband took her to the Water Cure to live. There, 
in her trances, she gave so much instruction to the Doctor, 
that, as he told me, he was greatly aided in his practice. " I 
learned from her " (these were his very words), " more than 
I ever learned from all my books." 

After half a year or so of tranquil married life, Lucy fell 
asleep and did not waken. It was hard to understand that 
she had passed away. There was no sign of physical decay. 
They sent for many doctors, many tests were tried. All 
judged that she was dead. After a week — with yet no sign 
of perishing, no mortal odor — the neighbors sent in word 
that, if there were no funeral that day, a mob would come 
and force the burying. This was in Jerusalem Corners, 
eighteen miles from Buffalo, about the year of 1852. 

" We buried her that day," Fondana Bundy said. 

" Fearing the mob ? " I asked. 

" Oh, no ! she came herself and told us not to keep the 
body any longer; it was dead." 

I gasped ! I had not " found so great faith — no, not in 
Israel ! " 

" How did she come? " 

" She influenced Eugenia." 

" How old was Genie then ? " 

" Only eleven. We were all amazed, the demonstration 
was so perfect. She told us things that Genie never heard 
about, and acted out herself completely. She said there was 
no other way to let us know ; but Genie never was entranced 
again." 

I came to know Eugenia very intimately, as a wife and 
mother, — singularly guileless, free of all pretense as a white 
rose ! I would have staked my life upon her lightest word. 



142 A Psychic Autobiography 

So I hark back at last and talk about myself. You under- 
stand that poetry, not mediumship, was my vocation. It was, 
in part at least, my livelihood. I had, besides, to think of 
battles and to write of them with vehemence of patriotism. 
Had I been ten thousand men, I think there would have been 
ten thousand soldiers more. All I could do, when physical 
weakness did not overcome, was just to suffer with my coun- 
try and to serve her, if I might, with song. I had no thought 
of being turned aside by any " spirit-influence," nor did it 
interfere with me in any way. I did not seek for mediums, 
nor as a medium, let myself be sought. I did not bind my- 
self to any Psychic service. Always I have known that to 
" consult the spirits " would be no more effectual, for me, 
than to consult the winds. When they have come to me, I 
have received them gladly : they have done me good and never 
any harm. 

But I began to have, between my spells of study, a certain 
power to hand out little psychic gifts to those about me. I 
shall tell of these, to some extent. For instance: 

Being a guest one time of Mrs. Bundy's (she was good 
enough to let me call her "Auntie"), she came into the 
sitting-room and sat down with a very tired look. Presently 
she said: "When I was young I had an aunt of whom I 
was very fond. Sometimes I am almost sure I feel her 
presence." 

" Auntie," I said, a minute after, " there she stands beside 
your chair. She doesn't show her face; that seems to be be- 
hind a snowy veil. She's a slender lady, and she wears a 
white, three-cornered handkerchief around her shoulders, 
with the ends crossed in the front. She has on a fine white 
apron, and a wine-colored pressed-flannel dress." 

" Auntie " sat up suddenly. " For all this world ! That 
was what she always wore in winter — wine-colored pressed 
flannel! She used to spin the yarn herself and do the weav- 
ing, getting them to dye and press it at the factory. And she 
always wore that handkerchief and apron." 

" Stop ! " I said. " Don't speak her name ! I think she 
is going to give it! Then I was bothered. Two names 
came at once — four syllables tumbling in together, hard to 



Ways of Pleasantness 143 

detach at first. " Auntie," I said, " I haven't got her name 
as yet; but some one else is here whose name was Achsah." 

Auntie shook her head : " I never knew an Achsah." 

" Well, never mind ! That wasn't your aunt at any rate. 
Her name was Betsy." 

" Why, for all this world ! That was her name ! " cried 
Auntie with delight. 

Next day she chanced to speak about the first year of her 
married life: " George had a cousin who was in consump- 
tion. None of the relatives seemed willing she should stay 
with them. So Achsah came and lived with us a year until 
she died. We wanted her." 

" Why, Auntie! you said you never knew an Achsah! " 

" Oh, for all this world! " 

Late in 1864, Levi and Lydia Brown called where I 
boarded, thinking they would like to know me. Two or 
three families met together at their house occasionally, as 
Quakers meet and " wait the moving of the spirit." I well 
remember that first evening, when they welcomed me to such 
a gathering. I was ready to be pleased with any evidence of 
spirit-visiting, and so were they. Naturally I have kept in 
mind the things that came to me rather than to the others. 
Sitting by Mrs. Brown, I said to her: " Some old friend of 
yours is here. Her name was Mary Mills." 

" I never knew a Mary Mills." 

" She says: ' Tell her I taught her how to make button- 
holes.' " 

And Mary Mills, the Quaker Seamstress, with just that 
foolish little message, brought to Lydia's mind — not herself 
alone, her name, her kindly act — but many a childish effort 
to be good, sit still and learn to sew; also there came a won- 
der : " Strange ! After forty years to hear from Mary 
Mills again ! " 

And then another gave her name : " Surely I never heard 
of her!" Then there was thrust before my brain — my 
mind, or what you will — a grey silk bonnet, very old fash- 
ioned, with a scoop in front, a little three-inch cape, — the silk 
most beautifully shirred. An artist must have made it. 
This I described ; and Mrs. Brown laughed out : " That 
was the first hat that I ever bought; that was the milliner's 



144 A Psychic Autobiography 

name of whom I bought it! " And back went memory to 
the spinning wheel that helped to earn the money that bought 
the shirred silk bonnet that had been so becoming to the 
pretty girl, thirt}--five years before. I only wish that dear 
young face could have been shown to me under the scoop ! I 
may as well say that I was very fond of Mrs. Lydia Brown. 

Suppose that Lydia before this time had wandered (under 
pressure of some "particle of light") into celestial realms, 
and there had met the skillful milliner: What would they 
have talked of, first of all? The great illumination? The 
wonder of the " four-square City " — " pure gold, like unto 
clear glass? " — Not so! They would have chatted merrily, 
for at least one minute, about that grey-silk bonnet ! 

That evening there was present a little, pale, half-worn-out 
lady, whom I had never heard of — Mrs. Higley. Perhaps 
eighteen of these " Progressive Friends" (another name for 
Spiritualists), sat circling round the slightly darkened room, 
not holding hands, but all in sympathy. There passed before 
my vision (I think, as usual, my eyes were closed), a soldier 
in his uniform. Instead of looking at his face, my sight was 
fixed upon his hands. He held them out before him, curved 
as if to make a cup for drinking. He crossed to Mrs. Hig- 
ley, stooped and laid upon her lap, a double-handful of whole 
hickory-nut meats! This I reported instantly. I do not 
know that I had heard her voice before; but now she said: 
" Yes, that is my son, Curtis. He was a soldier. He was 
starved at Andersonville." (Ah, these patient, patriot 
mothers ! ) 

Then Mr. Hawley asked : " But what about the hickory- 
nut meats ? " 

" Well, you see, we lived close to the woods in Michigan, 
and Curtis gathered nuts. We had barrels of them. I liked 
the old ones best ; and Curtis, when a boy, would crack them 
out of doors until he had his double-handful of whole meats 
— he threw away the half-ones. Then he'd surprise me with 
them! He'd come in, just as he has this evening, and lay the 
double handful on my lap." 

Curtis, the boy, did this: but not Curtis the soldier! No- 
tice the difference. I did not see the loving boy — catching a 
glimpse of him through her! I saw the young man, in his 



Ways of Pleasantness 145 

uniform, who had died in Andersonville ! How could he 
better have suggested that he loved her still and would be 
glad to gratify her lightest wish? 

" Such trivialities!" you mourn, "to come from spirits." 
Oh, yes! it might have been more wonderful to fall asleep 
before some hypnotist, he shuffling cards, selecting and inquir- 
ing: "What is this?" — You rightly answering: "The 
Jack of hearts ! " But, by the way, the hypnotist himself 
would be a spirit ; so would be you, the hypnotized ! And yet 
you both would think your miscroscopic thoughts and sol- 
emnly reveal banalities! Why, even the ass could prophesy! 
— However, there's a difference. 

Sometime in 1865, I think, being, as frequently, a guest of 
Mrs. Brown's, I gave her something finer. 

There was no " circle," and, so far as I may know, her 
mind was dwelling on the common things of life, as mine 
was, I remember. Neither she nor Levi, who was present, 
had the slightest thought of hypnotizing me. I did not hyp- 
notize myself; — and by the way, I do not think self hypno- 
tism belongs to me or ever helped me to a Psychic fact! 
Even as a child I never " made believe ; " and if I rocked 
rag-dolls they were not " babies " — they were calicoes, or 
" talloes " for an easier word. I made for me a crown of 
burdocks, — not to pretend I was a queen, but to be beautiful ! 
(And how the scissors pulled and how the locks were 
yanked ! ) 

Still further by the way, who ever is self hypnotized? I 
have dwelt in Methodist camps and frequented " revival " 
meetings, where many prayed and sang and prayed again — 
some of them occasionally falling into trances. Ah, you 
knew they had a power upon them and a Pentecostal fire! — 
even though they gave no verbal testimony. Others just 
" made believe," — did not deceive themselves nor anybody 
else. Try as they might, they could not fall asleep. If they 
shut their eyes, you could see their eyelids blinking or opening 
" on the sly." Sometimes (I hope but seldom), professional 
" mediums " also make believe ! 

I understand Hysteria very well. If it were in the moon, 
I'd know it — looking through a telescope. And catalepsy 
now: I have seen a cataleptic do the one thing over and 



146 A Psychic Autobiography 

over, in oblivion, that she was doing just before she went 
unconscious. Nobody called her self-hypnotized! 

I know that one (incarnate or discarnate as you please), 
may Mesmerize another. I do not know (nor yet believe) 
that any one may Mesmerize himself ! That may be Psychic 
heresy. Perhaps the sun does move around the earth. 

You speak of Fakirs — Yes, but they never make a farce 
of death, or sleep. They shut the eyes and shut the mouth 
and let themselves be buried decently. There is a law per- 
mitting life-suspension. 

Among our human kind, cases of this deceptive sleep, more 
wonderful than death, are well attested. Some, learning 
this, have fabled that a frog may live, imbedded in the rocks, 
for many years, and, when released, may leap about again. 

But mediums are neither frogs nor fakirs; and if they fall 
asleep, as though by hypnotism, I needs must think that spirits 
other than themselves have wrought such magic spells. But 
whether spirits in the flesh or out of it, the difference is not 
in principle, but in development. To rise from lower spheres 
to higher ones, is every medium's privilege. And hypnotizers 
that descend from heaven are much to be preferred to those 
who strike out from the lower plane. 

What was I saying? — Well, I was not self hypnotized. 
My hostess and myself were sensibly conversing (likely as 
not about a bed-quilt pattern, I had just invented!), when 
suddenly I broke the thread of talk: " There stands a lovely 
girl within three feet of you ! She is facing me, but turning 
and looking toward you, and smiling just a little. How she 
loves you ! " In truth the tenderness of her regard was in 
itself a revelation! Do they love like that in Paradise? 
Sweetness and gentleness were with her — ladyhood and angel- 
hood were all as one! 

Impossible to describe; and yet description must be haz- 
arded, or how could Lydia know? When she was gone I 
said: "She was not tall, — about your height I judge, or 
possibly my own. She was very handsome, — her forehead 
broad, her features all in harmony. There was no brilliant 
coloring; her face was calm and fair. You were lower down 
than she, and so her eyelids drooped a little. I did not see 
the color of her eyes, exactly, but they were large and soft 



Ways of Pleasantness 147 

and full of love. I judge that they were grey. Her hair 
was short and black, and very thick indeed. I never saw hair 
dressed like that before, although I think there was no other 
way to manage it. There were three rows of curls. The 
upper row began just at the parting on the top and over- 
lapped the second row, which overlapped the third, making a 
mass of short thick curls all round her head. They were 
beautiful — they seemed to lend her dignity." 

I did not tell her name ; it was not given. I only added : 
" You have known her and you must have helped her ; for 
she is full of gratitude." 

" Yes," said Mrs. Brown, " she died of quick consumption 
several years ago. I went to see her often, and toward the 
last I stayed with her as much as possible. She was the 
sweetest girl I ever knew. Her name was Mary Henry." 

The following day, without my being informed, " Willie " 
was sent away to get her picture. Mrs. Brown came rather 
carelessly, after his return, and handed me an open ambro- 
type-case. Imagine my delight ! There I saw a triple crown 
of curls, a broad, sweet brow, a placid, gentle face, a tender, 
girlish dignity. All these I had seen — they showed the out- 
ward Mary Henry! A little hollowing of the cheeks (con- 
sumption being imminent), I had not seen. They had been 
rounded out — "there is no sickness there!" And super- 
added to the pictured loveliness, I had seen that which never 
could be seen by mortal eyes — the ineffable tenderness that 
proved her super-mortal! My super-mortal eyes, had looked 
in hers! 

My share in this was greater than my friend's. She had 
but seen the living flesh and I had seen the living soul, in 
that celestial body that was like the natural one (enhanced in 
loveliness). I had seen the "dead" — alive again! And 
now I had the affirmation of the sun itself — ninety-three mil- 
lion miles removed — to demonstrate the fact! And I sup- 
pose the story of her visit was told by holy lips, in holy climes, 
among the happy folk who welcomed Mary back. 

Behold, their ways are " ways of pleasantness " and all 
their " paths are peace ! " 



XVI 
PSYCHO-PHYSICS AND PSYCHOMETRY 




N 1863, or thereabouts, Professor William 
Denton, Mrs. Denton, and Anna Denton 
Cridge, three scientific walking tourists, 
being much in need of rest, stopped at 
the Baldwin farm-house, not thirty miles 
from Buffalo, asking for entertainment. 
Charmed with their guests and greatly- 
pleased to be instructed, their host and hostess urged them to 
remain as long as possible. Their book, " The Soul of 
Things," had recently been published, and their affairs per- 
mitted them to stay two months, I think, during which time 
they studied still that science they alone had fairly appre- 
hended (one might say discovered) — the science of Psy- 
chometry. 

Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin found me out about the first of 
June in 1865, and wanted me to teach their children music, 
making my home with them, and having for my study a lower 
room remote from noise and opening upon a pleasant grove. 
Verse-making racks the nerves, and city life upsets poetic 
moods ; so such a chance for writing poems tranquilly was not 
to be refused. I was no lark, that I should carol on the 
wing. Theirs proved to be the house that I had found in 
one of those prophetic dreams, of which I have told you. 
Upon its elevated porch I had shouted "Victory!" then 



irned : " There is a 



great 



We have so 



many Psychic problems brought before us, that little puzzles 
similar to this, are scarcely worth considering. 

I think these friends had not been told that I had, now and 
then, a Psychic vision or revealment; for it was understood 
among my intimates that others must not know. But Mr. 
Baldwin said almost at once : " You're a Psychometrist." 

148 



Psycho-Physics and Psychometry 149 

"Not that I know of," I replied: "What makes you 
think so ? " 

" When we were introduced, you gave me one deep look. 
You Psychometrized me. What did you find out?" 

"Nothing at all. I only thought: 'That is a cruel 
man ! ' And now I see that you are full of kindness." 

"Am I?" he questioned, ruefully: " I kicked a cow to 
death not long ago! " 

Still he was kind ; but oh, these underselves ! — And notice 
how they interfere to make us harsh in judgment! 

Psychometry lies next to obvious sciences, as ultra-violet 
lies next to visible colors. No mortal eye has actually seen 
that beauteous border of the rainbow; and yet it has been 
photographed. Denton divined a soul in rocks and shells, in 
fossils, nuggets, flies in amber — anything we call material; 
and his collaborating wife and sister saw, with Psychic eyes, 
the souls he had divined. He was in truth, the Psycho- 
physicist — they the Psychometrists. 

" I know not which is greater — no, not I." 

The writer is aware that Psychometric facts which, in 
themselves, are indisputable, are subject to another and 
perhaps higher interpretation than that offered by Pro- 
fessor Denton, who first lifted them into recognition. 
Neither he nor his wife nor his sister had practical acquaint- 
ance with Spiritualistic phenomena at the time their book 
" The Soul of Things," appeared in print. It would not 
have been possible for them to refer the astonishing results 
obtained from their many Psychometric readings to the influ- 
ence and inspiration of discarnate intelligences. As Dr. Bu- 
chanan's " sensitives " (who indeed had opened their way to 
discovery), readily perceived the nature of poisonous powders 
which they ignorantly held shut in their hands, by the sensa- 
tions induced or the ideas conveyed thereby, so these pioneer 
Geologic-Psychometers naturally referred all their tremors, 
perceptions, visions, or thought-agitations to the article being 
Psychometrized. 

Now since these various effects were evidently far greater 
than mere inert matter could be supposed to produce even by 
the most prolonged physical contact, these tireless investigators 
believed and proclaimed that a power or quality resides in 



150 A Psychic Autobiography 

every particle of matter — a certain sort of soul, which may 
be detected and clearly recognized by immortal souls or minds 
yet held in earthly environments. 

This idea or belief is so nearly inconceivable that it will 
probably be repudiated by our ablest Psychists. And, in 
truth, one of those very " sensitives " which the President of 
the Cincinnati Medical College discovered, seems to have in- 
dicated another source from which these so-called Psycho- 
metric impressions might be derived. For example: having 
been tested with human chirography instead of with life- 
destroying agents, he declared that the piece of writing which 
h° held pressed against his forehead (in the manner adopted 
by later Psychometers ) , could have been executed by no man 
who had ever lived, save by Thomas Paine. 

This specimen which (if I recollect aright), had been sent 
in under seal, proved to be, or rather purported to be, a ve- 
hement essay flung out by the spirit of Thomas Paine, 
through a " writing-medium." 

Undoubtedly here is a vast field for exploration. Were 
Professor William Denton, his wife and sister correct in their 
interpretation of Psychometric facts? or must we refer them 
all to Psychic illuminations emanating from the spirit-world ? 
But let it be always remembered that we, yet on earth, are 
also spirits possessed of all the inherent power of the highest 
archangel, and that we own all the faculties with which he is 
endowed! We are of the spirit-world; albeit so tethered to 
our little trees that when their foliage is browsed away, and 
we have grazed our circle of ground over, what is left to do? 
— unless indeed some visiting spirit may untie and lead us 
into fields of his own discovery? That is to say: He Psy- 
chometrizes us — not we ourselves; ox he communicates and 
we but learn of him. 

Let it be understood, that while the writer assumes the 
correctness of Professor Denton's explanation of Psychomet- 
ric facts and applies it largely to those which lie within her 
personal experience, she is not putting herself forth as its 
discoverer, nor saying yet that any fact of them did not 
present itself to her entirely through the agency of disem- 
bodied spirits. 

Does any one remember (save myself), Dr. Buchanan's 



Psycho-Physics and Psychometry 



151 



discovery of a differentiated, Psycho-physical magnetism? 
Not that he called it so, or called it anything, so far as I can 
recollect. Doubtless he had a name, if he had only men- 
tioned it. Squire Shandy sent to have his son called " Tris- 
megistus," but the syllables got jumbled somehow, so the 
puzzled chaplain made it " Tristram " in the christening. 
Please pardon me for jumbling syllables, if I really must. 

Buchanan's "Journal of Man," was meat and drink to 
me in 1855; and out of that I fish this rare philosophy — 
Psycho-magnetic, Psycho-electric . . . Oh, no matter! Chris- 
ten it yourselves! Lo, here it is! 

A powerful current circulates around the globe from pole 
to pole, electrifying positively or plus the masculine portion of 
humanity. A counter current flows from east to west, elec- 
trifying negatively or minus, the feminine portion of human- 
ity. This theory, if correct, should have a thousand million 
proofs. Buchanan offered one; videlicet. 

Suspend a slip of steel (scissors will do) by any common 
string some inches long. Be sure and hold the string your- 
self, and use the other hand to keep the one from wavering. 
Shove underneath a letter, or a lock of hair or shred of cloth 
— just anything you choose. Now if the article has been 
pervaded by a masculine aura — charged with masculine mag- 
netism — the steel will vibrate, rock and feel its way, till — 
pendulum-like — you find it swinging North and South. If 
it has been pervaded by a feminine aura, your steel swings 
East and West. But mark the wonder of it! Lay two 
things together, one of the masculine influence, one of the 
feminine, your whirling steel will trace a pretty circle! 
Some of Buchanan's correspondents published articles con- 
firming this, with evident delight. I may as well confess, I 
tested the device myself. It seemed as capable of self-pro- 
pulsion as a ouija-board; but not so given to lying. 

Maybe to get the best results you need to be a " sensitive," 
but sensitives are common — two men out of five, four women 
out of seven, I think, the college President said. 

Whether this theory be demonstrable or otherwise, at least 
it partly falls in line with one indubitable truth. Because of 
our inherent spiritual life and inexhaustible energy, each one 
of us imparts a sort of soul to all the molecules within our 



152 A Psychic Autobiography 

" spheres of influence; " we pervade or charge them with our 
Psycho-physical magnetism, or whatsoever; we produce a 
force in them, which they continually discharge through 
" times and times and half-times; " — who can guess when all 
that borrowed force will be expended? 

Let us discriminate : Spirit is Essence — one with Elohim 
the Ineffable. Soul is the instrument of spirit — an agent 
or transmitter — individual, personal, quick with intelligence! 
By means of soul, a spirit may impress itself on things — on 
molecules of things. They send back messages : Nothing is 
lost along the way. Because of this mysterious transmission, 
this eternal inter-play, no atom can exist without its modicum 
of soul. Spirit is self-existent ; — soul is co-existent — eternally 
a servant, humbled yet how exalted ! 

But put aside pride of humanity: Have not all the beasts 
their "spheres of influence" also? Do they not impress 
themselves on matter? Perhaps the steel will swing because 
of them, even as because of us. 

Nay! put the beasts aside and say that even molecules have 
tiny " spheres of influence." And now behold how Physicists 
flock in and prove the Psychists right. One radium particle 
will send out rays that travel many thousand miles a second. 
And, come to think of it, all atoms send out rays, and with 
terrific force at that. Why, now it is conceded that all the 
atoms in the universe are changing places, changing worlds or 
changing cosmic spheres; and, traveling so, they take their 
little souls along with them, — perhaps for some great sum- 
ming up of infinite beneficence. If we impress ourselves on 
them unhappily, they turn again and rend us possibly; — at 
least, they pay us back a full equivalent. Let us beware of 
them. 

People once believed there was a flying island; and many 
traveled far, hoping to catch a glimpse of it; but that aerial 
realm the Dentons found was not an Avalon, — it was a uni- 
verse. Some idiot, (for the moment), blithely said their 
book was an "exhaustive treatise!" If they exhausted 
Psycho-physics and Psychometry so did Balboa — 

" Silent upon a peak in Darien," 

exhaust the wide Pacific ; so did Newton, letting a single ray 



Psycho-Physics and Psychometry 153 

into his darkened laboratory, exhaust the solar fires; so did 
St. John, who " saw a door opened in Heaven," exhaust all 
prophecy; and, turning back to atoms, so do we, who have 
our revelations (particles of light), exhaust supernal energy! 

Do not think that, like Aurora Leigh, I " exaggerate a 
small thing with a great thing over-topping it." This Psy- 
chic realm (or is it super-physical), has many devious paths, 
but none approach an end. In sober truth, if a descending 
host from Heaven should visit there, not an archangel of 
them all could find a boundary. Are there not many uni- 
verses — sphere enwrapping sphere, and each of infinite ex- 
tent? Why not a Psycho-physical universe wherein Psycho- 
metrists may roam at will ? 

Minded, myself, to catch a glimpse of this miraculous 
realm, I took a sea-shell, polished for admiration, weighing an 
ounce or more, held it against my forehead, closed my out- 
ward eyes, and waited what might chance to come. I did 
not wait three seconds. 

A headland thrust into the sea, two hundred feet in height, 
perhaps, stood up before my brain. It seemed the bulwark of 
a tropical island. This bluff or headland rounded out of 
sight upon my left. Its crest was green, but did not over- 
hang with greenery ; nor were there any trees in sight. One 
would long to climb, but could not, for the steepness of the 
cliff — which had no lodging place even for verdure. 

Below the sea this headland shelved a little, outward and 
downward, making a shallow where the waves came rolling 
up in blue and silver ripples, outlined with crests of foam. 
All was radiance, yet nothing dazzled (no blazing noon can 
dazzle Psychometric eyes!). The scene was beautiful ex- 
ceedingly, and did not disappear till I had seen its faintest 
line of loveliness, and noted how the waters danced in light 
and washed the glittering border of that impregnable rock. 

My point of view was, seemingly, a hundred feet away 
therefrom, a vessel's height above the surface of the sea. 
Afterward I learned that first you see the recent ; but contin- 
uing to look will take you further back. Atoms are like 
palimpsests ; writing is superposed on writing, picture on pic- 
ture, influence on influence. 

Did I see a photograph imprinted on the shell as on a 



154 A Psychic Autobiography 

single surface ? Or was every particle a surface, catching and 
holding fast the scene in its entirety? Either way, we seem 
to find that Nature has that perfect art none of our picturers 
have yet discovered — of photographing all the colors of the 
spectrum, — not by the slightest shade diminishing their 
splendor. 

But again : How could a picture so minute, loom suddenly 
before my brain, full size, so that I said : " Here is a steep 
two hundred feet in height, and here a bordering sea — the 
waves are rolling in the sun ? " Well, I suppose obliquity of 
incident rays, deciding angles of refraction, will account for 
that. ' I saw, not a mechanical picture, but the out-streaming 
light that, having made the picture, glanced away, with its 
diverging rays, to spread the whole before me, — great in size 
and wonderful for beauty. 

A few hours afterward, I tried the shell again. There 
was the headland, there the sea, though I had somewhat 
changed my point of view; but all that lovely radiance had 
disappeared. The atmosphere was clear but grey. The ver- 
dure on the cliffs was hardly green. I noticed inequalities 
along the face that had not shown before. I thought: " That 
was the way it used to look, before the elements had made it 
smoother; may be a hundred years ago." 

But now my mind was occupied by something underneath 
the waves; some small thing drifting very slowly in the un- 
dercurrent. I thought there might have been a heavy sea, 
in some late storm, that tore it from its place. 

The water was not bright enough for perfect sight; I 
tried to see if it were not my shell, but failed; and so the 
vision passed. 

By and by I took the pretty toy again. At once I saw the 
headland perfectly displayed in light, but there was change 
enough so that I said : — " This goes still further back in 
time." I was very near the rounded bluff upon the left, and 
suddenly I went down under water. There was such a 
shining sun that everything was visible, but only one thing 
fastened my attention, — a little mass of yellowish pulp. " It 
needs a house," I said : " It has to build itself a house ; and 
will it take a century, I wonder?" For actual mind-influ- 
ence, that softly palpitating nucleus, was more to me than 



Psycho-Physics and Psychometry 155 

cliff or sea or sun. I almost feared to be identified therewith. 
So I put down the shell in haste; and verily it was time! I 
could not lift my eyelids for at least a minute; they were 
far heavier than if I had been sleeping. 

" The known facts of telepathy," one writes, " account for 
the phenomena of Psychometry." And this he illustrates 
quite in his usual happy, cock-sure way. " Draw a blank 
card from a package, hand it to a subject and suggest that it 
contains a picture of a person." " Nine times out of ten," 
the subject will perceive the picture. This perfectly explains 
the Dentons and " The Soul of Things." Being an " emi- 
nent geologist," Prof. Denton's mind was stored with pic- 
tures, which, by telepathy, he unconsciously transferred to his 
collaborators (otherwise hypnotic subjects). 

This wiseacre says: "The explanation is exceptionally 
easy!" "Telepathy affords a perfect solution!" There! 
Now you know! 

You have all read " David Copperfield." Alas ! Poor 
Mr. Dick! He wrote, and wrote and wrote! He would 
have been a great philosopher, but Charles the First had been 
beheaded and that gruesome head of his kept tumbling in 
among the sentences! — Just as telepathy tumbles about in 
this philosopher's books! Likewise that everlasting pack of 
cards ! . . . Verily, after this manner, one could solve all 
mysteries of earth and hell and Heaven, with just a — euchre 
deck! 

Peradventure, when I was moved to test Psychometry, 
Professor Denton was a long way off, King Charles had left 
his head in England, and my head was in America! Every- 
body on the farm was picking berries, probably, and I was 
all alone. I think we'll let telepathy go by. 

" Do you know anything about this lovely shell? " I asked 
my host that evening. " I have Psychometrized it three times 
over." 

" Nothing certain. I bought it for a tropical shell. What 
did you see? " 

When I had told him he remarked : " I kept the Denton 
ladies well supplied with specimens, and I was present at the 
readings. They always told correctly, but they never told so 
much." 



156 A Psychic Autobiography 

I suppose their words were not so many, but they saw 
more deeply. They discerned, at times, the forces that pro- 
duced the specimen. I chiefly apprehended later influences. 
They were geologists and thought of primal happenings. I 
was a Spiritualist who dreamed of ultimates. One must al- 
low for mental bias. Certainly, as scientists, they were far 
away beyond me. Still I had one advantage. When they 
began their tests, they had not known themselves for Psychics. 
When I began, twelve years of preparation lay behind me. 
I had been virtually trained in mediumship, — which I must 
think a higher state than Psychometric trance. 

Naturally I was keen to make some further tests. So very 
soon when everyone was gone from home, except my pupils 
(seventeen and fifteen years of age), I said to them: " Let's 
have a real good time! Go hunt me up a specimen that you 
know about. Don't let me see it ; don't say a word about it. 
Don't get it from the parlor table; bring it from somewhere 
out of all my sight and knowledge." 

When they returned, bubbling with laughter, I com- 
manded : " Victor, stand behind my chair and hold your 
specimen against my forehead. I refuse to touch it. Linda 
don't look at me ! Both of you stop laughing. You mustn't 
speak or make a bit of noise. If I should see, I'll talk; I'll 
tell you everything that comes to me, foolish or wise ; " — and 
I began almost immediately. This is virtually what I 
said : — ■ 

" I am in the woods. I am close beside a waterfall. I am 
standing by the upper verge. The stream is four feet wide, 
I judge; and, looking down, I think the little gorge is eight 
or ten feet deep. What a charming fall! How clear the 
water is! 

" I am drawn away. I am going South ; now I am hurry- 
ing West: Everything is wild — uncultivated! Just as it 
was before the white men settled here. 

" I have reached the Mississippi. I am going down the 
river, only I am up in air. I look across over the tops of 
trees. Here and there, through openings on the left, I am 
seeing wandering Indians. There are some huts in sight; 
three or four Indians have come out of them and are straying 
off toward the North. I want to see those huts more clearly. 



Psycho-Physics and Psychometry 157 

They are curiously constructed. But I am going very fast 
indeed! What great trees on either side! Something pulls 
me from the river. I am going into Texas. 

"I am in a great, primeval forest. Here is a stream of 
silvery water, not more than twelve feet wide. Here is a 
waterfall. I stand upon the southern side, it seems, near to 
the verge. I look below. There is a fall of fifteen feet or 
so ; the banks on either side near by, are steep. 

" I see an Indian girl down in the bed below. She is 
kneeling in the shallow water. She is prying something up. 
It seems to be hard work. 

"No wonder! She is prying out a piece of flint. She 
throws it down upon a little pile the other side of her. She 
goes to work to pry another out. The streamlet's bed is al- 
together flint. Under the water, either way, there is nothing 
to be seen but flint. 

" Across the water-fall from where I stand, I see an Indian 
coming. There seems to be a path made through the woods. 
There must be an Indian village out of sight. He comes 
close to the edge. I see him very plainly. He is young, but 
how he scowls ! His face is most forbidding. 

" Now he looks down and sees the Indian girl. She is 
looking up ; she laughs. He keeps on scowling all the same, 
— really he looks ferocious! 

" She catches up a piece of flint and throws it at him. It 
doesn't hit. She throws one piece after another. He only 
looks and scowls. 

" Now she goes to work again. She pays no more atten- 
tion to him. She keeps her head down, to make believe she 
has forgotten him. 

" She begins to sing: I know her thoughts and I can un- 
derstand her song, as well as though I knew her words. 

" ' No one cares for me. I am not wanted anywhere. 
Why should I stay where no one cares? I will go a long 
way off, toward the North. No one will know where I have 
gone. No one will miss me. I shall walk for many moons. 
I have heard of mountains that are very high. The snow is 
on them and it never melts. I will find a mountain. I will 
climb ; I will lie down in the snow. Then I shall die. No 
one will ever look for me. No one will care.' 



158 A Psychic Autobiography 

" There ! That is better. The Indian doesn't scowl ; he 
almost smiles. He is not bad looking, after all. He leaps 
down. That is a long leap, but he thinks nothing of it. He 
comes and stands close by the girl. She won't look up. She 
goes on prying out a piece of flint. He looks down pleasantly. 

" And now I see an old, old squaw: — terribly old ! I 
should think she might have lived a hundred and fifty years; 
and yet she walks alone and sees her way. She is coming 
along the path toward the water-fall. I think she is looking 
for the girl. She has the care of her, no doubt. She comes 
and stands just where the Indian stood. Now she is looking 
down. I wonder what she will say." 

Just here Victor and Linda burst out laughing uncontroll- 
ably. The chaperone tickled them. "I see that I have 
made myself ridiculous," I said, " Take away that specimen. 
Give it to me! When my eyes are open I'll see just how 
ridiculous I have been." 

Victor laid it in my hand. It was a large, flint arrow- 
head. I asked : " Where did you get it ? " 

" Linda picked it up, but I had seen it first. We were in 
the woods, close to the water-fall that you described at first." 

" Was my description accurate? " 

" Perfectly so." 

" Where are the woods? I've never heard of any water- 
fall in Collins." 

" Three or four miles away. People don't go there 
much." * 

To see so much and have so little confirmation ! Well, 

there was something further: About a year thereafter, I 
chanced to read a paragraph (going the rounds) to this ef- 
fect : — " The question has been often asked and never an- 
swered : ' Where did the Indians get their arrow-heads ? ' 
At last the puzzle has been solved. Long streams have been 
discovered in the Texas forests, whose beds are solid flint. 
No doubt the Indian tribes, in their vicinity, were skilled in 
fashioning arrow-heads. It is believed they sent canoes far 
up the Mississippi and its tributaries to barter them for wam- 
pum. These arrow-heads could easily have been distributed 
further along the water-courses, so that any Indian, even at 

* See Appendix V. 



Psycho-Physics and Psychometry 159 

the seashore, might procure as many as he wanted. This 
seems to be a case of actual monopoly. Those Texas tribes 
must have been rich in wampum! " 

Well, certainly there was the Alleghany River, rounding 
up not forty miles from where this arrow-head was found; 
but after all, somebody in the world had seen those Texas 
streams ! So by telepathy you see ! . . . The explana- 
tion is "exceptionally easy!" Still one "wants to 

know, you know ! " 

So we'll suppose that little cataract, first observed, was 
photographed upon the flint. There seems a little difficulty 
about the focus. I saw things up and down and roundabout. 
Still nature might not mind a little thing like that ! Suppose 
we say telepathy, for once. The picture caught by Linda's 
brain or Victor's, was registered on mine. But why not see, 
instead, a later picture? Victor's bed-room for example, 
where the flint had lain upon a shelf, a year or so. 

Furthermore, what drew me swiftly from the place they 
knew, to places they had never seen? What took me back 
in time through centuries of savagery? What mighty influ- 
ence pulled me through the air above the Mississippi — turn- 
ing me to Texas, and dropped me down, deep in the woods, 
beside that flint-paved stream ? How was it that I saw three 
human beings, each one acting out consistently an individual 
life? And how about that pretty, girlish play, of tossing 
things that never hit? And that incomparable love-song — 
sweet as frozen nectar ! One could swear it never came from 
out my dry-as-dust romanticism ! Also its effect : To change 
a most ferocious face, to smoothe away the savage frown, and 
make a smile seem possible. 

Phantasms? Illusions? Pathematic symptoms? Brain 
created shams? 

Percival Lowell, the Astronomer (and who today is more 
colossal?), perceives and states (howbeit rather whimsically), 
a simple Psychic truth, not more to be disputed than a mathe- 
matical law: 

" An illusion could no more exhibit intrinsic change than 
a ghost could eat dinner without endangering his constitu- 
tion. The mere fact that it is an illusion or optical product, 
renders it incapable of spontaneous variation." 



160 A Psychic Autobiography 

But now you turn around and say: "That was self- 
hypnotism, which you repudiate! " Pardon me; I was in no 
sense hypnotized. I closed my outer eyes, having the gift of 
inner vision. I did not lock the door on any faculty. I was 
alert. I felt the flint upon my forehead, — was aware of 
every movement round me; I talked out what was in my 
mind as normally as you, who speak of bread-and-butter, 
picture-hats or fluctuations on the Stock Exchange. 

Victor and Linda urged me: "Try the specimen once 
more." Doing so, a few hours afterward, I saw an Indian 
stealing through the woods, looking behind him warily. He 
was sorely wounded; blood was running from his side: — 
The arrow-head, perchance, had found its destined victim. 
I would not look again. 




FRANK L. BROWNE. MARCH 18, 1872. 



OF THE CRUSADE 



XVII 
PSYCHOMETRY AND SPIRIT-INFLUENCE 




SYCHISTS, I cry you mercy. I am told 
that many of you " do not know Psychom- 
etry;" or rather that it lies unnamed, 
among your other gatherings not yet as- 
sorted out. Hence, I suppose, no Scientist 
would say or think at all, that every com- 
mon happening records itself upon adjacent 
things. Still less that human personality impresses its tre- 
mendous self upon a physical universe after its finite way, — 
as God, the Infinite, impresses all, Who is the Soul of all. 

And yet, should that be true (all atoms being traced and 
over-traced with records of the past) there ought to be a 
Psychometric sense, enabling us to read ; — an under faculty I 
grant, most imbecile to God's futurity, blind, deaf and unin- 
telligent to all that is, but not to all that was. If one, as 
Thalaba, were " in the desert far from men," a pebble 
taken in the hand or pressed above the eyes might, through 
this under-faculty, inform the mind of what had fashioned it, 
what seas had worn it smooth, what heats had made its par- 
ticles revolve — each one a mimic sun, and through what inter- 
changes it had come to have a sort of soul, as Denton claims, 
and as I verily am prone to think. 

But say it be not so: Say that I group my facts (indubit- 
able facts!) about some meteor, dropped what time a blazing 
bolide burst in air, and make of that poor stone an altar to 
the gods that never were and are not meant to be! Why, 
laugh at will, my facts remain; deal with them how you 
please. Let the dead bolide rest, half-burned away, and take 
your cakes and oil to other shrines, less heathenish per- 
chance. 

And yet I pray you, do not misconceive nor minimize that 
which discoverers named " Psychometry." Give it what 

161 



162 A Psychic Autobiography 

name you will, O, Scientist! "of learned length and thun- 
dering sound " — as " Rosa Rubiginosa," " Damascena," " Eg- 
lanteria; " — but let me pluck my rose. 

Explain the Psychometric sense ? Not I ! And yet — 
Telepathy nor Hypnotism, nor both of them combined, ac- 
count for it, more than uncertain whispers in the dark ac- 
count for Milton's verse. But this is true: It stands In- 
terpreter between the physical universe and souls that dwell 
therein, or have escaped therefrom. Perhaps — nay certainly ! 
— discarnate spirits bring to us " indubitable facts; " but we 
are spirits, too, and may perceive those facts or kindred ones, 
without their aid. We, of the lower rank, are not detach- 
able. We, too, belong to all the universes: — let us say the 
Physical, the Psycho-physical, the Psychic, the Essential. 

Each universe is infinitely great, and we are hardly more 
than infinitely small. That makes no vital difference; we 
have our share in all. We do not live on sufferance ; we are 
necessary; nothing can get along without us. If it were pos- 
sible for even one of us to be expunged — nay, for one physical 
atom to be so destroyed, where then would be infinity? An 
end to one least particle would prophesy, unerringly, the ulti- 
mate fate of all. Would God remain? 

We seem to have achieved a certain greatness (after all we 
are very great!) because of having taken part in cosmic revo- 
lutions. We have from first to last, let us suppose, con- 
sorted with or battled with the very " souls of things." And 
are we not endowing molecules this very minute with the 
souls of us ? If so, why should not they endow us in return ? 
— so putting us in true possession, far as may be possible, of 
little secrets worthy to be spoken of throughout eternity: 
These, if they be at all, are Psycho-physical secrets — Psy- 
chometric mysteries — facts in any case. 

Come, let us deal with facts ! 

Mrs. Denton, speaking Psychometrically, said, in effect: — 
" I see a lake of fire under the crust of earth." There is no 
lake of fire, but once there was. Her lesser seeings had been 
justified, — why not the greater? I must believe she saw — 
not looking downward through the solid rocks, but looking 
backward through the innumerable years, a new and partly 
molten world. "Not possible!" you asseverate? You do 



Psychometry and Spirit-Influence 163 

not know the claritude of Psycho-physical atmospheres, nor 
faintly guess the penetrating power of Psychometric eyes. I 
do suppose that, in the Psychic realm, when we are over- 
weighed with light, we may, at any time, turn back and rest 
us in the luminous dimness of these underspheres — the Phys- 
ical and Psycho-physical; — being glad to know and under- 
stand them better, because of long advancement through 
the spheres. 

Frankie Marvin, dear and sweet, who never had been 
angry in her life, came visibly to me some ten days after she 
had passed away. In that last sickness she had been given 
some actual help through me. I think, because of that, she 
wished to let me know that all was well with her. She 
faintly smiled, uttered four words, then, with an upward 
movement, disappeared. " It is too sunny! " That was all; 
but oh, how dim it made the noon-tide seem! 

Frankie had lived among the half-lights; — little wonder if 
the glory dazzled ! Yes, we must have the shadows ! Who 
shall say that even seraphs need not veil their eyes? 

" Why do not spirits come to us more frequently? " Per- 
haps we could not bear it. Too much sun is wrong for ten- 
der plants. We need the darkness and the dew full half the 
time; and, for the other half, we hang our heads too much. 
Alas! We are none of us Helen Kellers, — having "sensi- 
bilities " so spirit-like they more than take the place of fac- 
ulties. 

Still, deprive yourself of outward vision, now and then, 
and see what comes of it! 

Once I, myself, looked back, with Psychometric eyes, just 
a few thousand years, — any geologist might guess how far. I 
was very ignorant of Geology. I knew blue clay from 
marble, shale from quartz, and, seeing two specimens of rock, 
could tell which was the prettier; but I had never entered a 
museum, nor seen a re-constructed, pre-historic skeleton. If I 
had hypnotized myself in verity, and tried to cover up the 
bones of such a one with " too, too solid flesh," I should 
have made queer work of it. 

Lewis Baldwin borrowed for me — himself in utter ignor- 
ance of its history — what the possessor thought a fossil bone; 
a fragment nearly half a foot in length. This young geolo- 



164: A Psychic Autobiography 

gist was, in some degree, adept in judging specimens. I have 
said that Psychic visions cannot be obliterated; neither can 
the Psychometric. What you are made aware of, after this 
manner, is like a well-hung picture in a lighted gallery; — 
enter the door and when you look that way, you see the pic- 
ture. I held the fossil bone against my forehead and this is 
virtually what I said: — 

" Here is a deep and narrow gorge, I think among the 
Alleghany mountains; — I am almost sure of it. I stand 
below and look up, probably two hundred feet," it may be 
more. The sides are perpendicular. I see no place for 
climbing out. Here is the specimen, at the foot, close to the 
wall. I see the little hollow where it was embedded before 
some freshet washed it out. Another freshet, very likely, 
might have carried it away. 

" Now, I am on the top. I see the gorge by looking down. 
I am standing near the edge. Here is a grassy level, very 
green. Here is a large boulder lying on it — almost uniform 
in shape but somewhat rough. It must be five feet high and 
five or six feet through. The sun is very bright. I wish I 
could see the landscape better, but the boulder interferes. It 

disappears, then comes right back again This is the 

fourth time I have seen that boulder! I am getting tired of 
it. It glitters here and there and gets before my eyes. 

" What a singular sensation ! I am in a void ; I am sink- 
ing! — I am sinking very fast! — I keep on sinking — sinki 



ingj 



It is light, but I am seeing nothing, save the luminous space. 
" I have found a watery plain. Once it was covered with 
the sea or some large lake, I fancy. It has been nearly 
drained, or lifted up above the water. This is what used to 
be thousands of years ago. I cannot even guess how many. 
Here is an animal standing knee-deep in the water. His 
head is down ; he is evidently feeding. There are places that 
are full of weeds, and other places where the water lies in 
pools on beds that glitter. Either the sea once covered them 
and left small shells, or those I see belong to small fresh- 
water shell-fish. Surely this creature cannot be eating shell- 
fish, though he pokes about. He stands somewhat behind a 
clump of weeds ; I cannot see his head entirely. Now I see ! 
He feeds on weeds and grasses. He has tusks and a short 



Psychometry and Spirit-Influence 



165 



trunk — much shorter than an elephant's trunk. He turns his 
head this way and that. He rakes in the long stems with his 
tusks and then gets hold of them with his trunk and pulls 
them out. 

" His back is somewhat arched and slopes considerably to- 
ward the tail. Not a bison's hump exactly, yet if he had no 
trunk or tusks, I should think him like a bison. He is brown 
or leather color, but there are lighter spots that might be 
white if they were not so dirty. His hair is very coarse, and 
thicker on the arch than lower down. He is not a terrible 
creature evidently, and not so very large! I have seen ele- 
phants that were larger. I should say he was just about the 
size of a big buffalo." 

And then — as mother used to end her stories when we 
teased for more — " Just then I came away." 

The gentleman who owned the fossil, getting this report, 
replied : — " I found it in the bed of a steep and narrow 
gorge, about two hundred feet in depth, among the Cumber- 
land mountains. It was lying loose close to the wall from 
which it had been torn out probably by torrents. Some dis- 
tance further down, I climbed up to the top. There was a 
green and level sward, on which a boulder lay, near to the 
edge. It was fully five feet high and five or six feet in diam- 
eter. I laid the fossil down beside it in a blazing sun, and 
chipped off specimens for half a day." 

Four times I saw that picture of the boulder, manifestly 
printed on the fossil by photography, or radiography or what 
you choose to call it. It was an actual picture. How could 
I have seen it otherwise? Scientists who shut away the vis- 
ible rays and conjure with the invisible, bring out similitudes 
that even outward eyes can recognize. Why not copy for 
us these that exist already? In that case we could see the 
pictures with our physical as well as with our Psychometric 
eyes. Here is a field that, by and by, may yield tremendous 
harvests. 

As to the mastadons, they lived at any time it seems, from 
twenty thousand years ago, till almost recently. They fre- 
quented the swamps and watery places, where they fed on 
succulent weeds and where they were often mired and " per- 
ished miserably." 



166 A Psychic Autobiography 

Their bones are found from Canada to Mexico. There 
are quantities at Big Bone Lick, Kentucky, not two hundred 
miles away from where my mastodon was buried. It must 
have taken Nature several thousand years to build him that 
Mausoleum.* 

Now will you please to note one point : Those human be- 
ings — Indians — whom, in the previous chapter, I took you 
back to see, were wraiths, no doubt, but they were genuine. 
They were not illusions. There is no pretense that they 
were spirits, or the souls of spirits or even the underselves of 
souls. Not one of them so much as looked at me — as actual 
spirits will. They were not physical realities: They were 
and are today and will be, I suppose forever, Psycho-physical 
facts. They are pictographs and registrations, aural influ- 
ences and cosmic records, — proofs that God remembers! 

And what became of that poor mastodon's modicum of 
soul, when the strong body sank in mire, to be entombed at 
last beneath the Cumberland Hills? Nothing will live eter- 
nally, which cannot grow eternally; but even a mastodon 
does not fulfil himself by going under " sooner than he wold." 

I have a mind to show again my marvelous littleness. 
During one of my happy visits at the Bundy farmhouse, I 
said at breakfast: " If I believed the way John Wesley did, 
that animals live hereafter, I should say I saw, last night, the 
spirit of a dog. I had just blown out my candle and laid 
down, when one of the largest dogs I ever saw, appeared and 
walked along before me, looking at me attentively. He 
stopped, turned round three times, so that I saw the whole of 
him, then sat down on his haunches and looked me steadily 
in the eyes with wonderful friendliness." 

" What was his color ? " Mr. Bundy asked. 

" Quite dark but there were several clean white spots, — 
the small ones on the left side, but a very large one covered 
the right shoulder blade. It had two arms or prongs, one 
reaching forward toward the neck, one stretching up and 
back — considerably longer. He looked at me, as though he 
loved me." 

" No doubt he did," said Mr. Bundy. He was no senti- 
mentalist, but really his eyes were filled with tears. " That 

* See Appendix VI. 



Psychometry and Spirit-Influence 167 

was our old dog. That white spot proves it, even if you had 
not described him otherwise. He was the largest dog I ever 
saw — the friendliest and the most intelligent. There was 
just one man he didn't like — a rather hypocritical man, but 
nothing worse. I would be far more glad to see that dog in 
spirit-life than to see many mortals I have known ! " 

Being impressed by this, I introduced a stanza into one of 
my latest poems — " Resurrection " — in which the risen spirits 
make request of One immutable 

" That we may nothing miss of all which grew, 
Revive Thy wanderers of the earth and air, — 
The loving hound that leaped the hand to kiss, 
The steed that in Thy flood-time bore us through, 
The doves we fed : Oh, be Thy Gateways fair, 
Set wide between Thy lesser world and this! " 

And also on my own account, I wrote : — 

Likewise Thy birds. They nest in vale and wold ; 
By twos they search for seeds, full keen of sight — 
Content with any bough whereon to swing. 
Last, on Thy deep-torn cliffs their wings they fold, 
Look up to Heaven's unmeasurable height 

And with Thy white and harping seraphs sing. 

I cannot quite let go Psychometry as yet ; the less because 
the Psychometric insight Is almost universal, whether recog- 
nized or not. Helen Keller says : — " There are people who 
are color-blind, people who are tone-deaf. We should not 
condemn a musical composition on the testimony of an ear 
which cannot distinguish one chord from another, or judge a 
picture by the verdict of a color-blind critic." 

Even so, though you may seem to lack this special gift, con- 
ceive that you are not authority, but do not doubt the faculty. 
I had to slip it under and forget about it, because a sharp pain 
in the forehead warned me that I could not work my brain 
that way and still keep writing verse — a proof that my own 
mind and not another's scrutinized the specimen. Revelation 
does not weary — study does. 



168 A Psychic Autobiography 

Meantime, during one of my home visits — -which were 
rather frequent — it chanced one of " The Nameless Club " 
(of which I had the happiness to be an honorary mem- 
ber), met me on the street, and told the others. So, being 
lavish of their courtesies, a goodly number — seven or eight — 
came down that evening to my mother's home, to do me spe- 
cial grace. All of these were notable. A few are living 
yet, who are noted men, because of noted work. 

Not to talk poetry all the time, I said to them : " Gentle- 
men : there is a new Science — The Science of Psychometry." 
Only one of them had heard of it. They were not given to 
Psychic studies. I had withheld my personal experiences, not 
from cowardice but from a sense of incongruity. 

Mr. Larned (the historian) challenged me: "You say 
you have the gift to some extent. Will you let us select a 
specimen, and will you venture to report without the slightest 
knowledge of its nature ? " 

I truly said that I would very gladly make the trial. Mr. 
Bryant (lawyer and city alderman) having been deputized, 
sent me next day, by special messenger, a little piece of bat- 
tered brick — evidently very old. Nothing could have been 
more lacking in suggestion or, it proved, more puzzling as a 
test. No one but himself among the club had any knowledge 
of its history. I gave it several " readings," wrote them 
down in order and sent them, sealed, with the proviso: If 
the brick had come from any ruins of a fort by a large lake, 
or lengthened inlet from the sea, the document must be sub- 
mitted to the Club: — otherwise burned and counted as a 
failure. 

My keen and intellectual friends did not gainsay results, 
though there were doubtful points — some of them which were 
afterward made clear, while nothing was reported back to 
me as manifestly wrong. The document was not returned 
to me, but I suppose I used the following words with no 
material variation. In making several tests, I found my 
point of outlook little changed. These were the pictures 
and impressions: — such of them at least as float up in mind, 
forty- five years after the test was made. 

/. " Here is a large lake, beautifully clear. Beside the 
shore a girl is standing and looking at a pleasure boat some 



Psychometry and Spirit-Influence 169 

little distance out — a sail boat large enough to carry several 
sails. She is a handsome girl, dressed in the latest style. I 
think this is a fashionable watering place." 

II. " Here are the ruins of a fort. They are old. I see 
foundation walls of brick. They are built double, with quite 
a space between. The space is filled with stones and sand 
and gravel, — anything, it seems, that happened to be handy. 
Here is a large piece of fallen timber — a beam that had been 
used in building. It seems to have been thrown out, some 
way. It is broken and decayed, but very long." 

///. " Looking up the lake upon the left, there are rolling 
hills. The scenery is very beautiful. Looking far ahead, I 
do not see the shore. Possibly this is an inlet or long arm of 
the sea; but I feel quite sure it is a lake." 

IV. " I see some seven horsemen cantering up. They are 
dressed in uniform; they are a body-guard, apparently. 
General Washington is riding in the center. He cannot be 
mistaken. He is majestic." 

V. " I see what may have happened earlier. Here is a 
weather-beaten vessel coming toward this end of the lake. It 
is drifting along slowly. It is a small vessel, but perhaps 
large for the time. It comes up to a landing on the right 
some distance off. It is made fast, or planks are laid. A 
lady is brought out on deck. She is seated in an arm-chair — 
something like a throne. Four men have taken up the chair. 
They are carrying it on their shoulders. The lady is richly 
dressed; she is being treated with the greatest reverence, as 
though she were a queen. They are carrying her on shore. 
They are dressed in queer, old-fashioned clothes." 

VI. " Now, I am in the fort. It is not yet destroyed ; 
but there is fighting going on. I see nothing outside, and but 
little inside. I only see two guns. They are pointed toward 
the lake and one man has the charge of them. He manages 
them both. He is the spryest man I ever saw. He springs 
up to where he can look out ; he leaps about ; he sights the 
guns and fires. His energy is inexhaustible! Others may 
do their part, but he pays them no attention. He is all ab- 
sorbed in fighting. He is dressed in corduroy clothes. I no- 
tice that the blouse is yoked along the shoulders, after an old 



170 A Psychic Autobiography 

English fashion I have seen. He stops, he disappears — the 
righting must be over." 

VII. " Something terrible is happening. This is not 
fighting. Everywhere around, outside and in, there is terror. 
The air is full of it. It beats in like a wave. Every atom 
of this piece of brick is pulsing with it. I will not try to find 
out what it means. It is too horrible. I will never try this 
specimen again, I think; I cannot bear it." 

In truth my nerves were shaken when I laid the brick 
aside. I trembled, not with fear, but as though in poignant 
sympathy with fear. Afterward, I handed the brick to Mrs. 
Dr. Marvin, who could see nothing only that it had crossed 
the sea. I tried it for a minute and felt that she was right. 
It had the influence of the sea about it. With that I ended 
my investigation. 

This piece of brick was from the ruins of Fort William 
Henry on Lake George. It had been made in Holland. 
Mr. Bryant had himself removed it from the double walls I 
had described, while on his wedding tour a few weeks earlier. 
" Your description of the ruins," so he wrote, " was abso- 
lutely startling in its fidelity." 

I suppose no tongue could ever tell the horrors of the 
massacre outside and in the fort after capitulation !* But if 
all dreadful deeds are so recorded on every tiny atom within 
their scope, how will the guilty clamor for redemption! 
Have you read Gerald Massey's " Tale of Eternity? " Not 
a fancy sketch, but, as I chance to know, the record of an 
actual experience! It will show you how a spirit may be 
compelled to stay below and look and keep on looking at the 
murderous act! That will be hell, in truth! — Till by and 
bye, the innocent rise up, confront the murderers, one by one, 
and seal their pardon with a holy kiss. So God enfolds 
them all. 

You ask '(and very pertinently), did I never fail? Once 
only it was thought I failed, and lamentably at that! Mr. 
Bryant sent a broken piece of exquisite china-ware. I said 
the Pope had blessed it. I said the priests had handled it. I 
tried it several times and always saw a priest or two, bowing 
and genuflecting and lifting up the Host, or so it seemed. I 

* See Appendix VII. 



Psychometry and Spirit-Influence 171 

said, further than that; it had been used in mummery — just 
mummery. 

It had been dug up on the site of an old Jesuit Mission 
Station. Mr. Bryant, himself a member by adoption of a 
tribe not far from Buffalo, expected me, and wanted me, to 
see a lot of Indians. I didn't even see one — little — red — 



pappoose 



Mother said : — " Before you drop these tests, examine one 
small specimen for me; and brought it — wrapped in tissue 
paper. 

" Mother, here is a long slope facing West and ending 
near the sea. It is not California; it is a foreign country. 
It is Japan. I feel its influence. There are no trees in 
sight, but any quantity of shrubs. Women and children are 
roaming round. They are picking leaves? This is tea! " 

Mother laughed : " Uncolored Japan tea." 

During that summer (1865), something momentous came 
to me. Just then it seemed a lovely incident — no more. In 
fact it placed me definitely under spirit-guardianship — not 
governance, but most beneficent supervision. I had been, I 
fear, a little insolent : " There must be no dictation, no im- 
perative influence, no absolute control! Let others talk of 
spirit-guides; I am not guided, I am just befriended! " 

There has been no tyranny on that side, no demand on this; 
but, since that summer of 1865, I have been a willing instru- 
ment. Otherwise I had not lived on earth these many years ! 

That old affliction, inflammation of the nerves, had 
pounced upon me as a tiger. I was a transient guest of Mrs. 
Brown's. Some other-where a wrong was being done to a 
sorry woman whom I, alone, was powerless to assist ; and I 
had sent my friends away to set the matter right; so I was 
left in solitude. I sorrowed : " How Lydia will be troubled 
with me! This may last a long, long time, as once before. 
I see no remedy." 

" Won't you come and help my sick sister? " 

I turned and there was Porter, holding by the arm and 
leading in, a man but dimly seen. Our lovely boy — only last 
year a soldier ! had brought to me an able spirit-doctor. Not 
for a moment did it occur to me that I should be relieved. I 



172 A Psychic Autobiography 

only thought : " How Porter loves me ! How he always 
loved me ! " 

Mrs. Brown, but just returned, came hurrying in: " Can 
you get up and hear the story?" " I cannot even lift my 
head," — and I forgot — I really forgot, my sweet experience! 
Very soon, as in a dream, I lifted up my head, arose and 
dressed. In torment still, I reached the open door. Mrs. 
Brown cried out : " Don't try to walk ! I'll bring the rock- 
ing chair," and drew me to the dining-room. " Now talk ! " 
I urged, " and tell me everything! " 

She talked a full half hour — watching me furtively. I 
cried out suddenly, all amazed : " There is not a pain about 
me ! Except for weakness, I am absolutely well." 

She laughed : " I saw a change come over you. I knew 
the very minute you were helped ! " — She knew a lot, did 
Mrs. Levi Brown! 

When I claim the Psychometric state as ours — not " due to 
spirit influence " I do not mean that spirits may not use the 
faculty in us, as I admit they use our other faculties. One 
comes — heart full of love — and says: " I must be recog- 
nized." But should the spirit wear his new apparel, (mantle, 
toga, coronation-robe, or otherwise!), and you describe him 
so, his friends would shake their heads: " He always wore 
frock-coats, felt hats, black neck-ties " — and the like. And 
so the spirit catches up some picture of himself, dressed just 
that way, and lo, you! there's your friend! The Psycho- 
metric picture-book is always close at hand ! Meanwhile he 
isn't cheating you. He says: "This is the way I used to 
look. I have changed since then ! " 

Ah, changed! — Did I not see Babe Mary — not in her 
olden garb, but all " transfigured," " shining," " exceeding 
white as snow? " Even as I have written heretofore: — 

How sure is the peace of the undefiled! 
As all my sins were a sealed book 
She looked on me as the seraphs look ; 
But the face where-through her spirit smiled, 
Was the dimpled face of an earth-born child. 

Just where to draw the line between the Psychic and the 
Psychometric, who can tell ? Perhaps this final Psychometric 



Psychometry and Spirit-Influence 



173 



story may reveal a blended state, or rather a suggestion of the 
soul that mediates and dwells between the two. 

A gentleman whom I may designate, by actual title, as 
" The Squire," became enamored of " The Soul of Things." 
As a much greater man averred about telepathy, this other 
cock-sure gentleman declared about Psychometry : " All the 
phenomena of Spiritism can be explained thereby!" Be- 
tween " The Squire," whom I had never seen, and Dr. Mar- 
vin, whom I knew (and heartily esteemed) there was a 
friendly feud. 

" Bring me a good Psychometrist," the " Squire " ex- 
horted, " Let me prove my case." " You'll prove the oppo- 
site ! " Dr. Marvin vowed. 

Now Lewis Baldwin was not over reticent about my 
Psychometric tests. Without my knowledge he reported 
them to Dr. Marvin, with a flourish! 

I was flattered with an invitation from the Marvins to a 
New Year's dinner, — the more because, in ignorance of my 
whereabouts, messengers were sent out right and left to sev- 
eral families, all of whom were charged to find and bring me 
in. It was a case of " catch your hare, then cook him ! " I 
was amazed and angry to be told at once : " We wanted 
you to give us Psychometric readings, for an important rea- 
son." I was in trouble with neuralgia and felt unequal even 
to common talk. After long resistance, I capitulated. " I'll 
try one specimen and only one, provided no one in the room 
knows anything about it and some one can be found and 
brought in afterward, to prove or disprove what I may have 
said." 

I didn't like the " Squire." He rather boasted his Mes- 
meric powers at dinner. That made me take a " scunner." 

Afterward the good folk sat awaiting. There was a 
specimen concealed in Mrs. Marvin's hand. " Turn the 
lights down low and hold it on my forehead," I commanded, 
— and straightway forged ahead. 

" Here is a mountain top, — a little plat of green, bordered 
on one side by a bluff, some ten feet higher. There is a 
fine dry atmosphere, with vivid light. This is a state far 
West, — not touching the Pacific. I look across toward the 
West, and see a long clear lake some fifty miles away. 



174 A Psychic Autobiography 

Looking down the mountain, I see a shaft, cut through in 
search of ore. Men are climbing up, and men are going 
down. Silver has been found in paying quantities. I see 
no mining works, nor any railroad. Everything is being 
done by hand. The men who are going down are carrying 
sacks slung on their shoulders, weighed with samples they 
are going to crush, down by a stream. I see this little speci- 
men. It is silver ore. There is nothing more to tell." 

After this a gentleman was brought in and introduced as 
Dr. Marvin's patient. He testified — not knowing what I 
had said : " This is a piece of silver ore picked up by me 
upon the top of a mountain out in Idaho. Silver had just 
been found and men were flocking there to locate claims." 
Being interrogated, he described the plat of grass, the little 
bluff, the sunken shaft, the men with sacks. He had not 
seen the lake but knew there was one fifty miles away — not 
sure about the name. (The Coeur d'Alene, most likely.) 

The " Squire," believing that the " hare " was caught, pro- 
posed himself to superintend the cooking. He had scarcely 
noticed me at dinner, very likely thinking I was some " fake 
medium." Now he asked : 

" Have you tested writing by Psychometry? " 

" No ; and I never mean to ! I hate the study of character. 
It is too demoralizing." 

" I have a piece of writing for you." 

" I must decline to try it. I have no such gift." 

" I will lay it on your lap " — and did so in a lordly way. 
(Alas! Poor Mrs. " Squire! ") 

There was a dead silence. All the lights turned low, a 
roomful, mostly friends, waiting in expectation. Stifling 
my wrath I turned to Mrs. Manley, who was visiting me 
that week, and said : " Give me your hand. I want your 
magnetism." 

Then to the " Squire : " " You will take the consequences. 
I have no power in this direction that I know of. Every 
foolish thing that I can conjure up, I'll tell you." 

But under Mrs. Manley's calming spell, temper subsided. 
Never, at any time, had I so lost myself in visioning, as then 
after the first hot minute. Yet all the time I talked. 

" I see part of a boat — the stern, close to a wharf." 



Psychometry and Spirit-Influence 175 

" I am seeing absolutely nothing. I am in a vacant space. 
I am going away from earth. I am going very fast and very 
far. I am near the planet Saturn. There are spirits here 
in space. They are moving about and signaling to each 
other. It seems they walk on nothing. They walk on 
space. These spirits look alike. They are all blonds. I 
should think they were all related. 

" I was mistaken. They do not walk on nothing. They 
walk on spirit-landscapes. Everything looks blank before 
them and behind them, but for a little way around each one, 
I see what he is walking on. One is by a stream; another 
in a field. 

" Perhaps they think the scenery, and so create it just by 
thinking. Maybe they think of scenes they used to know, 
and re-produce them so that they are real again. Or else 
the space is filled with spirit-landscapes of itself. That seems 
more reasonable; for now I see them everywhere. 

" These spirits lived some time ago, — during our Revolu- 
tionary War. Some of them, I see, are Quakers. 

" One Quaker lady dressed in soft gray silk is coming 
toward me. She sees me and she smiles — she even laughs. 
She makes me understand that she was noted as a good 
housekeeper. She takes a broom and makes pretence of 
sweeping. She stops and looks at me intently. She shakes 
her head; she is pointing downward. 

" I am coming back; I am sinking very fast. Almost 
half the sky is hidden by the moon, — I see how rough it is. 
I only caught one glimpse. 

" I am near the earth. Here is a bank of cloud. There 
is a young man walking on it with his head down — lost in 
thought. He is a thinker, but he doesn't think profoundly — 
he thinks abstractly. He tries to think out something; — 
how to make wrong things right; but he can't think of 
anything. He keeps his hands behind him, and he stoops 
a little. He is all absorbed in self. I do not see his face, 
and yet I know that he is young. 

" A little way behind, and following him, there is an 
older man, who looks at him intently and almost hopelessly. 
He is the young man's father. He wants to get his son's 
attention, but he plods on patiently and won't intrude. He is 



176 A Psychic Autobiography 

a good man. He doesn't walk easily but he has no stoop, and 
he doesn't hang his head. He has sharp features, and a long 
sharp nose. He is not a blonde exactly, though very near it. 
His hair is light brown — not much gray, if any. I am very 
sorry for him. He wants to help his son, and yet can get 
no nearer. Something repels him. 

"I am on the earth. Here is an emigrant train. Here is the 
young man whom I saw upon the bank of cloud. He is 
walking wearily beside the wagons. His back is turned, — 
I cannot see his face, but he is just the same. He walks on 
thinking — thinking; but the thinking does no good. It is 
not deep at all; it is all about himself. 

" I am near a house. There are other houses — all of 
them are lately built. There is some peculiarity about their 
roofs, — I can't describe exactly. This is the house that 
I must enter. I go in at the front door, and climb the 
stairs. I turn into the nearest room — not a front room. 
Here is that young man, lying on a sort of home-made lounge. 
And now I see his face distinctly. If he were old, he would 
look almost exactly like his father. He has the same sharp 
features, rather toned down, and the same light brown hair. 
He is young but he is dying of consumption. Nothing can 
save him. He hasn't long to live. He is in the last stage 
of the disease. 

" A young girl sits beside him, sewing. She is rather 
curiously dressed, — in black, the neck half low. She attracts 
me, she is kind and gentle. 

" The young man is dead. I am standing in a grave- 
yard, though I see no grave but his. I am standing at the 
foot. There is a whitewashed head-board. If I could go 
around, I could read the name. It is useless — I can't stir; 
yet how I want to read that name ! " 

I ended. All of me was perfectly awake except my eyes. 
It seemed they never would unclose! 

But presently the " Squire " was very flattering; he stood 
up straight before me, slender, tall and blonde, and told me 
many things about Psychometry; — for now, at last, he had 
met a real Psychometrist, and so was qualified to teach. 

I thought : " You think abstractly, but you do not think 



Psychometry and Spirit-Influence 177 

profoundly." Then I discovered : " He looks like all those 
spirits whom I saw near Saturn." 

But he was interrupted: "Are you not going to tell us 
what the writing was about. We think we ought to know." 
He hedged at first; but then he had a brother present, and 
a wife. They went the length and told us all there was 
to tell, whether or no ! as soon as they were told by him what 
he had given me, for that they had not known. 

His family had lived in Albany. James was his youngest 
brother. At twenty-three James had a wife and children. 
Then he fell into despondency. All the doctors said he had 
consumption. Only one held out a hope. He might per- 
haps be saved, if he should join an emigrant train and walk 
across the plains. Trains were being fitted out — there might 
be opportunity. 

Having sixteen hundred dollars in the bank, without re- 
vealing his intentions, he drew out half, and took the boat 
from Albany to New York. He wrote one letter home — the 
one I had " Psychometrized." Two days later a neighbor 
saw him in New York and asked : " When are you going 
home?" He answered, rather ambiguously: "The boat 
starts in an hour." Nothing was ever heard of him there- 
after. Detectives failed to find a murderer — policemen 
failed to find a murdered man. No one thought of emi- 
grant trains. All thought him dead. 

" But tell us about the spirits. Were they like your an- 
cestors? " Here the " Squire's " brother intervened. " Just 
like them! She described our grand-mother, the Quaker 
lady, our father and our brother James correctly. And we 
are all blonds or very nearly so." The guests conferred one 
side. They all supposed that James had left his home to 
save his life and died — perhaps in Salt Lake City. 

And / thought this: "May be that is true about the spirit 
landscapes." So I wrote my " Resurrection " in 1906 and 
caused my resurrected spirits to beseech the Lord in this 
wise; even according to my visualizing forty years before. 

Now lead us forth, between Thy worlds of light; 
These be the fields no mortal men have seen, 



178 A Psychic Autobiography 

Save dreaming prophets. Lo, where, free of bond, 
Most glad, most beautiful — as Hesper bright — 
Thy heralds flit or pause and smiling lean, 
Wave welcoming arms, soar on and pass beyond. 

We humble folk yet stay Thy Pinks to glean; 
And if we loved a flower in that dear Place — 
Heart's ease, or Innocence or Painted-cup — 
As well remembering us, amid the green 

Thy plant appears — its happy morning face, 
For gracious salutation lifted up. 

And whatsoever trees have shown us grace — 
Made cool our villages through Summer heat, 
Harbored Thy birds or given us to feast, 
Yea, suffered wound that we thereon might trace 
For heart's delight, the name most dear and sweet, — 
They shelter us, the greatest with the least. 

Thereunder we the singing words repeat 

Of many a bard who used the dales to roam, — 
Telling of Youth and Love and those which go 
Down to the sea in ships, though winds be fleet 
And their Beloved wait and weep at home; 

And how the Dead come back and hear and know. 




XVIII 

A HELPER IN MACEDONIA 

FACT is not assailable. It is said of 
Deity: " With worms He can thresh moun- 
tains ; " and that is true. But mountains 
are realities, not facts. Once you say: 
" This happened ! " There is nothing 
more to add except : " Because this hap- 
pened there were consequences." George 
Eliot would say: " It can never be altered. It remains un- 
altered to alter other things." Now, should I take my facts 
and build a structure with them, my building is entitled to 
respect. You are not justified in saying: "A silly house of 
cards! She has a clever knack of balancing them: but — ■ 
puff — a single breath will blow them down ! " 

I said my brother brought a spirit-doctor, who afterward 
became a guardian. There came to me so many " facts " in 
proof of this, that I, perforce, must state a few of them. 
For if you stop to think of it, however people talk of guar- 
dian angels, very little faith in them is manifest. 

After that New Year's dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Bundy's 
son Leroy came after me. He had been lately married, and 
Delia wanted music-lessons ; moreover, I was pleased to hope, 
his mother wanted me. And anyway I had a three month's 
rest among them, varied with rhyming work ; for I was busy 
shoring up my most ambitious — or at least, my very longest 
piece of verse. I pushed Psychometry one side; that was 
delight, not business. The Dentons, genuine scientists, spent, 
I was told, all they could gather up for several years, to dem- 
onstrate and make the world aware of Psychometric truth. 
That was not my calling. I had no mind to sacrifice so 
much as one Spenserian stanza just because of that. For, 
after all, if we must sacrifice, the most of us would choose 
the visible altar ! — and on the mountain top, by preference. 
During those winter evenings, Leroy and Delia visited 

179 



180 A Psychic Autobiography 

upstairs quite out of hearing; while Grandma Hard, George 
and Fondana Bundy and myself, took all the time we wanted, 
just for talk. But once our talk was interrupted curiously: 

Telling a funny story to entertain my friends, I had a 
mind to make it funnier; I — embellished it! Nobody had 
time to laugh. Right in our center some one gave a long, 
loud, whistling " Whew! " 

We stared a moment; I was stricken dumb. Then Mrs. 
Bundy, who had a sense of humor, said : " Mother ! What 
are you whistling for? " 

Grandma (79 by this time), turned indignantly: "I 
didn't whistle; it was George." 

" I haven't a tooth to whistle with," said George. 

" Then it was Fondana." 

" Mother, you know I never whistled in my life." 

And then it came again, right in the center of the group; 
not quite so loud, but still a much astonished " Whew ! " 

Confused, I said: "I wish that something else would 
come, as unexplainable." To tell the truth I was much 
ashamed. I inwardly resolved that all my life, I'd keep my 
funny stories well within the limit. 

The door was open to the little kitchen. Just beyond that 
door a rattling noise began, much like the crumpling up of 
stiff brown paper, only many times exaggerated. It kept up, 
we estimated, full three minutes. All the doors, save that 
between the rooms, were closed. Not a living creature small 
as a mouse, was on the lower floor, beside ourselves. There 
was not even a paper curtain at the window, nor a scrap of 
paper visible, within that room. 

Now, lest you think I have ignored the outer form of so- 
called Spiritualism too much, I frankly say that I believe a 
spirit caused the noises, — not for fun, but for an obvious 
purpose. The whistling showed intelligence and moral 
sense ; power to rebuke and to enforce rebuke with repetition. 
And further, finding that my moral sense was quickened, I 
was granted " something more," to clinch the matter. 
Moreover, really, you know, the air within a tight-shut room 
could never whistle of itself. Ventriloquism? Not from 
within the house; nor from without, unless the very trees 
had learned the art. 



A Helper in Macedonia 181 

I used to think that spirits of a lower order only, made 
such outward demonstrations. I am not so sure. There 
are good physicists in Heaven I dare suppose. 

Nothing could be more plain and simple than the way in 
which my brother's friend began his ministrations. We were 
rather glum one evening. Mr. Bundy's eyes were troubling 
him, and Auntie had a painful rheumatism in her most serv- 
iceable right arm — our chief dependence practically. 

One came and stood beside me, dimly seen as once before ; 
— a well-built gentleman of fifty, whose hair was white. I 
saw no more and never saw him afterward. He never told 
of self but thrice — this night and twice again. He in- 
fluenced me to speak and, I suppose, to personate himself. 
Always the voice he used was firm and masculine, his man- 
ner vigorous and his talk that of a cultured doctor, who had 
learned (chiefly in spirit-life we gathered) many truths not 
widely understood. 

Speaking of me, he never said : " My medium ;" he always 
said " My friend." During five years and more — long as 
I needed him — he made myself and others well aware of his 
most lovable personality. 

This time he spoke to this effect : " My friend was very 
sick some months ago. Her brother called on me for aid. 
Now I have taken her in charge ; I have her life to save." 

Having so introduced himself, he said to Mrs. Bundy: 
" Madam, I see that you are suffering. Before retiring, have 
your husband spend a half hour pouring hot water on your 
arm — as hot as may be borne. And you " — turning to Mr. 
Bundy, " will find relief from tea-leaves. Bind them wet 
upon your eyes and keep the bandage on till morning." 

" But won't you tell us who you are? " 

" Many years ago in Boston, I was known as Dr. Jona- 
than Andrews. Call me Dr. Andrews." 

Once I asked an elderly Boston lady — a stranger met by 
chance near forty years ago — whether she had ever heard of 
Dr. Jonathan Andrews. She answered : " Many times. He 
had been my mother's doctor and she used to say in every 
difficult case : ' If only Dr. Jonathan Andrews were alive, 
there might be hope.' " 



182 A Psychic Autobiography 

This is no conclusive proof; howbeit I never sought for 
more. 

Now, the next morning, both my friends were wholly 
cured. I suppose that gave them confidence; for when the 
spirit came that evening, they asked for further help: 

" We are troubled about our son's wife, Delia. She was 
not well before her marriage. Two of her family had died, 
and she had taken care of them. We thought she only 
needed rest; but now we think there may be positive danger. 
If we call her down, will you examine and prescribe for 
her?" 

" You need not call her down. I'll visit her and see 
what may be done." 

Presently the spirit said : " Your daughter is in danger. 
She is in the first stage of consumption. She might be saved, 
but not by any common means, such as you have at hand." 

While he paused, said Mr. Bundy : " There's a Dr. Dick 
who cures consumption, just at the beginning. We sent our 
nieces to him, but he sent them back within a week or two. 
He said they were too far gone. Could he save Delia do 
you think? " 

" I don't know Dr. Dick ; but I will search him out." 
Here let me state that I, myself, knew absolutely nothing 
about Dr. Dick, nor had Cordelia's actual danger fairly oc- 
curred to me. 

" I'll tell you where to find him," Mr. Bundy said. 

" Tell me in this way: Fix your mind upon the road and 
follow it in thought from here to there. I will go along; 
and you shall hear just what I think of him tomorrow night." 

The following day I worried silently. To hand out 
Psychic gifts to friends was happifying, but having human 
life depend upon my mediumship was quite another matter. 
Till finally I begged of Auntie : " Don't have unbounded 
faith ! You know that I am always conscious. Without the 
least intention, my mind might interfere. Whatever may 
be said to-night, remember you are the one to judge." 

She only smiled : " You needn't be concerned. We have 
had mediums of our own." Why, so they had ! How could 
I presume to follow Lucy Hard? Moreover, there was 
Frankie Hard — foredoomed to die in early life. When only 



A Helper in Macedonia 183 

seven years of age, I think, they set her down to play at 
picture-making. Quietly and long she seemed to play, then 
rose up sleepily and crossed the room to lay her slate on 
Auntie Bundy's knee — all written over with a message from 
her father (the father of the child). He had told things he 
wanted done. You may be sure they were attended to. 

But afterward he wrote, through some one else I appre- 
hend : " I shall not influence Frankie any more. It would 
be unjust to her. She is too delicately constituted." That 
ended Frankie's mediumship, it seemed. My own was not 
so wonderful. I thought it wise to doubt. Moreover, I 
had yet to learn that Dr. Andrews had magnetic power. He 
gave, through me, just what he chose to give and not what 
I, or others, asked of him. 

When evening came, we sat awaiting — they full of expec- 
tation, I dull and half-unwilling. Then just a little back of 
me one stood and reached an arm around, holding before my 
sight a perfect picture, eighteen inches long perhaps and 
actually framed! And, doing so, he said with emphasis: 
" Dr.— Dick's— House! " 

I spoke without one doubtful tremor. " Mr. Bundy, Dr. 
Dick lives in a large, two-story house close by the road. 
There is a pump before it and a watering trough. The 
house has just one door in front, and, on each side of that, 
four windows. Taking both stories there are sixteen win- 
dows visible. Just at the right-hand corner, there's a gate 
through which you reach the back. A fence is just in line. 
The house is old, and not in good repair. It is what we 
used to call ' wood-colored,' — never painted. There is one 
clapboard missing high up, on the left. The roof slopes 
toward the road, and there is moss along the eaves in several 
places, and even higher up among the shingles." 

Curiously enough, just then I saw what was not in the 
picture; rather, I lost the picture and looked away. I went 
on just the same: " Off on the left the scenery is beautiful. 
There are green meadows and a river. Across the river, a 
mile or two away, I judge, there is a large and handsome 
village. What village is it Mr. Bundy? " 

" St. Catherine's in Canada. That is St. Catherine's 
River." 



184 A Psychic Autobiography 

" Why, so it is ! I recognize the scene. We moved to 
Canada when I was nine years old, and crossed that river. 
I remember how the village looked so far away. We visited 
my father's cousin there. But certainly I never saw this 
house of Dr. Dick's." 

" Well," said Mr. Bundy: " I have been there twice and 
if I stood this moment right before the house, I could not pos- 
sibly describe it any better. It is very old; I saw the moss 
myself." 

How did Dr. Andrews get that vivid picture and put it in 
a frame for me to see? Far finer than a photograph, for 
every shade of color had been reproduced. And here is 
something yet more wonderful: 

The time was early March. There must have been Can- 
adian snows on all those fertile meadows ; yet they looked to 
me as fresh and green as if the time were summer. / had 
passed that way in March and afterward in October. It 
seems I might have caught the scene from Mr. Bundy's 
mind; for he had seen it looking just that way. But for the 
house itself, I am fain to think that Dr. Andrews showed me 
what he had actually seen ; and, to be yet more definite, had 
framed the picture handsomely. Where did he get the 
frame ? 

Howbeit with such a double confirmation, I was well con- 
tent, and then, and ever after, on occasion, I welcomed Dr. 
Andrews! This, in effect, is what he said: 

" My friends, good evening to you all ! — I have visited 
Dr. Dick. He pleased me very much, — a good man and 
an excellent physician. He has a method of his own; and 
for consumption, in its early stage, I know of none that 
equals it. I am at liberty to say that, in this one respect, 
he far surpasses any doctor in America. I recommend him 
to your daughter. Under his care, I promise her recovery." 

Two of Delia's family had died of that disease, which 
once begun, had run a rapid course. The spirit-doctor's 
diagnosis was confirmed by Dr. Dick, under whose care 
she was immediately placed and soon was literally cured. 
I think she is living still.* 

As to this dire white-plague, whatever methods since have 

* See Appendix VIII. 



A Helper in Macedonia 185 

been approved, I think I ought to tell you more. For Dr. 
Dick, in saving many, after his toilsome manner, wore his 
life away, and I have never heard of its adoption by an- 
other. Being of a German school, he made much use of 
roots and herbs; but just you say " consumption " — off came 
his coat ! And first he donned a pair of flannel mittens, with 
which he rubbed his patients, underneath their robes, with 
violence, for half an hour; then bathed and rubbed them 
thoroughly ten minutes in strong red pepper tea; then don- 
ned another pair of mittens and rubbed for twenty minutes 
longer. He skinned them now and then by chance, but this 
he deprecated ; he " didn't wish to cruelize ! " This every 
day and maybe twice a day, till the dread visitant fled in 
terror; for he never took a patient quite beyond that critical 
first stage. He never trusted to apprentices; people might 
knock at that dilapidated " tavern-stand " all day, but only- 
ten at once were ever lodged therein; and when he died no 
doubt that hundreds lived because of him. 

" Auntie " sent for me one time. Dr. Dick had come 
from Canada to roam the woods, guided by Mr. Bundy, in 
search of simples. I had congested lungs and functional dis- 
order of the heart; — just on the point of breaking down 
completely, Dr. Marvin thought. I took a single " treat- 
ment." Half the night I dreamed of standing at the stake 
among the blazing fagots and suffering holy martyrdom. But 
when I came to breakfast, breathing like an infant, danger 
had disappeared. It seemed miraculous. 

When Dr. Dick took Delia's case in hand, I had an urgent 
call from Mrs. Higley. Curtis, her son, who had starved 
at Andersonville, had someway set aside for her a little sum 
of money. If I would take that fund, go out to Buffalo, 
purchase an instrument, and stay six months with them in- 
structing Nettie, she was persuaded Curtis would be greatly 
pleased. I had no doubt of it. I therefore did my final 
work upon " Atlantis," in the Higley farm-house, not a mile 
from Levi Brown's. 

My brother-in-law, the Rev. Rufus Cooley, had lately 
settled in Wisconsin, and, being much beloved, had easily 
persuaded Mother and the rest to follow him, purchase a 
farm and learn to till the soil. I should have followed, but 



186 A Psychic Autobiography 

could not see my way just then to leave these country friends 
and Margaret McMaster (with whom I spent three sum- 
mers first and last among the " Cattaraugus breakers"), nor 
yet that " Nameless Club " of Buffalo, whose members, even 
then, were sending in subscriptions for the book that was 
about to be. More than all these could realize, I was bound 
up in them. And so I stayed at Mr. Higley's farm-house 
half a year and spent six hours a day in mental labor. 

Once a week, and sometimes in between, three families — 
the Higleys, Browns and Hawleys — with myself, had happy 
" circles." Thither every time came Dr. Jonathan An- 
drews. Not that he blocked the way of others. He was 
the soul of courtesy. He came, as any gentleman might, who 
means to spend an evening with his friends in pleasant con- 
versation. Only at our desire, he led the way — instructed 
us and answered questions in philosophy. We were all en- 
gaged in scientific Psychical Research — he, the scientist, we, 
the investigators. He taught us Psychic laws, and more 
than once dipped into physics, even telling things I have seen 
announced since then as fresh discoveries. Sometimes he 
gave a message from another ; that seemed to please him well. 
He loved the common folk and all their common ways. 

One night he spoke of self. This was the manner of it: 
He was expounding something. I was listening, as ucual. 
Meanwhile, I saw come in and cross the room, my Mrs. 
Manley's father, Mr. Haines. I had not known that he 
was dangerously sick, but he had passed away, it proved, two 
days before. Dr. Andrews paused, remained in silence for 
a little time, then said: " I wish to tell you something about 
my early life. My mother was a poor, hard-working widow. 
I was her only child. She owned a lonely little cottage by 
the sea ; but, half a mile away, there was a summer boarding 
house, close to a little village. I was mother's errand boy; 
I carried back the work that she had done and brought new 
bundles home. I had a traffic of my own. The summer I 
was ten, I earned, for mother, thirty dollars, gathering clams 
and selling star-fish, shells and mosses, to the city ladies. I was 
intensely proud of that. But in the Autumn mother died. I 
suppose no boy could be more broken-hearted. They bound 
me out to a good farmer, who was kind; and really every- 



A Helper in Macedonia 187 

one was kind. But all the while I was unhappy. I had lost 
my mother. One day when I was twelve, I was allowed to 
swim with other boys and I was nearly drowned. With dif- 
ficulty I was resuscitated ; but there had been so great a shock, 
it made me dull for months. My mind lost balance ; I grew 
dissatisfied, and chose to run away. I started out toward 
Boston. I had just eighteen dollars of my own. It seemed 
a fortune. People cared for me along the road, but when 
I reached the city, I was half worn out and very hungry. 
I bought a loaf of bread over a bar, where men were drink- 
ing. Seeing that I had money, a smiling fellow offered me 
a drink of lemonade. I thought him very kind. 

" At midnight, I awoke, sick and bewildered, lying in a 
doorway, deep in shadow. I rose and staggered on, think- 
ing to find a tavern possibly. But when I looked I found 
that I had lost my money. So for hours I lay beside a wall 
and sobbed. There seemed no place for me in all the 
world." 

Here I am compelled to pause. I cannot hope to repro- 
duce the sweetness and simplicity with which he told the 
rest: How his mother came in visible presence; how she 
printed on his mind a street and number; how he sought 
the place and found a widow's home; and how she fed and 
kept him till her son came in, then led him forward, saying: 
"You need an office boy, and here he is!" And how he 
came at last to have an office of his own. Then in a few 
short sentences he paid a tribute to the mother and her son, 
that showed us something of the measureless depth of spirit- 
gratitude. 

He ended : " I have told this for an especial reason. 
When you hear that a good boy with good intentions, has 
run away from home, remember this: He will not be al- 
lowed to go alone. He will not suffer serious harm. Some 
spirit will protect."* 

The following day came Mrs. Bundy, saying mysteriously : 
" I have heard from Vineland." (In New Jersey — then 
Mrs. Manley's home). "Your friend is deep in trouble. She 
hopes, through you, to get a spirit-message; but I am not to 
tell you why." 

* See Appendix IX. 



188 A Psychic Autobiography 

" I know already that her father's gone," I said. " He 
came last evening." 

"He was living when she wrote. Do try to tell her 
something!" I sat a little while in silence. Then I said: 
" I can see nothing but a vessel. I have no idea what it 
means." 

Now the letter said : " My boy has run away ; we think 
from sheer discouragement for lack of work." She doubt- 
less might have added : " also because of grief " — he being 
very fond of Mr. Haines and knowing death was near. 

Although his boys and girls, together with their boys and 
girls are kith and kin to me, I learned from him but yes- 
terday, that first he went to sea. 

We have our limitations. I was never used (but once) to 
seek and find a wanderer. This boy no letter could have 
intercepted. I had to be content with Dr. Andrews' message 
and the memory of a father, seven years in spirit life, who 
would not let him drift alone. 

These be simple stories. You may conceive that spirits 
travel broader roads. No doubt they do, I have met them 
there myself and mean to tell about it. Meantime, along 
these narrow paths, I choose to show you first what gentle 
intimacy may be possible between ourselves and them. The 
greatest man will stoop to kiss his child. If we are chil- 
dren, not the less our elders in the other life, may find us 
lovable. 

There was a yearly gathering of " Progressive Friends " 
at " Hemlock Hall " close to the Baldwin farm, that called 
in many thousands. " Speakers " near at home were always 
ready for the rostrum; others came from far. That year 
my Mrs. Brown was called upon to entertain a lady-lecturer 
from Baltimore, said to be held in high esteeem. So, being 
diffident with strangers, she called on me to come and help 
her out with talk. 

Our guest was rather elderly — fifty-seven she said. 
Though reticent, she drew me strongly, being a disciplined 
woman full of quiet dignity, very attractive also in appear- 
ance and of a gracious manner. 

It chanced she feared an inability to speak because of 



A Helper in Macedonia 189 

cankered mouth. My Dr. Andrews had a way of proffer- 
ing help, even on slight occasion. So, by telepathy, he named 
to me a remedy. Telling her this, she said: "I need more 
help than that; suppose we have a circle." 

So four of us sat down, joined hands a moment, just for 
harmony, and presently the lady talked at ease with Dr. 
Andrews. Someway, I have no memory of what he said, 
although I heard of course. But all the while, after the 
first few sentences, I watched a beautiful young lady, walk- 
ing to and fro, who seemed to me waiting her turn to speak. 
Dressed in perfect white, much like a bridal robe, she paced 
the floor from wall to wall along the further side, always 
upon the self-same line. She walked so swiftly that, as she 
turned about, her dress went floating out as in a wind. Will 
anyone be shocked? There were two flounces, deep and 
delicately traced with broidery — vine-like above, but heavier 
near the hem. I saw the very pattern — I seem to see it now ; 
and there were similar effects about the neck and sleeves. 
And then I saw that all the time, whichever way she turned, 
she kept her eyes intently on the face of her whom she had 
come to see — her mother certainly. For, with a difference 
of years, the one was like the other, only more delicately 
made. An exquisite creature, verily alive! — 

" A spirit, yet a woman, too." 

At last she spoke; — she hurled her message forth as one 

might fling a rose Was it a rose? — I thought: "It 

may be sweet — I am not wholly sure ; " and wondered 
whether I would dare deliver it. 

But Dr. Andrews having spoken for himself then spoke 
for her: " Lady, you have a lovely daughter present. I hear 
her say: 'Tell mother to tell husband that I'm old enough 
for him now! ' " 

The mother rose and left the room. Mrs. Brown and I 
felt that we must not question her ; but Mr. Brown was not 
so scrupulous. He asked on her return : " Did you under- 
stand the message?" 

" You shall judge. I have a lovely daughter, who passed 
to spirit-life two years ago at twenty years of age. When 
she was just eighteen she loved and chose to marry a gentle- 
man of sixty, — a worthy man and very intellectual. He and 



190 A Psychic Autobiography 

myself were strong Republicans and Spiritualists, as well as 
public lecturers. Our families were intensely orthodox and 
Southern sympathizers. I was compelled to leave my home 
because of that. My daughter clung to me. There was a 
storm of opposition to the marriage, — excused ostensibly by 
the difference in ages. ' She is too young for him ! ' was said 
a thousand times, I think. They all refused to visit her, — 
even her best-loved friends. She only lived two years. No 
words of mine can tell how much this message means to me." 
But — old enough ? . . . . Spirits advance by leaps and bounds 
no doubt. After many years can we be sure of overtaking 
them ? — Forbear the lower thought ! " Depth pre-supposes 
height " says Frothingham. I add : Height pre-supposes 
depth ! 



XIX 

RUE AND ROSEMARY 

EHOLD then, Dr. Jonathan Andrews! — 
old and very old, if time in Spirit-life be 
measured by progression. He had passed 
away, we may conclude, no less than 
eighty years before he named his name, as 
I have said, and proffered services. He 
might have visited a myriad worthier; but 
one I loved had brought him, — he had chosen me! Per- 
chance I was a little more in need than many, and rather 
more accessible ; moreover one who could be used for helping 
others, if occasion served. He made occasion serve. 

What he had seen in Spirit-life he did not come to tell. 
There must have been ineffable experiences, such as we, too, 
will have when we are " old enough." Yet still he chose to 
linger near a world 

" That wants Love's color in the grey of Time." 




We read that Christ appeared among his former friends — not 
clothed with light unbearable, but standing near, in olden 
guise, and gently asking: "Children, have ye any meat?" 
Peradventure, breaking bread with honeycomb and saying: 
" Come and dine." 

How many ways this guest of mine had found that led to 
lowly homes, I cannot guess; but this I know: Not only did 
he comfort me but others near to me ; and leaving me full use 
of all my mental powers, he shared with me a spirit's happi- 
ness in rendering aid. Twice, certainly, through me, he 
lengthened human life by many years. Howbeit, I, through 
him, am yet alive myself. 

Having said that he must save my life, he watched me day 
by day as mortal doctors will, only with higher wisdom. 
Other physicians charged me not to write, which I was 

191 



192 A Psychic Autobiography 

forced to do from inward pressure as from outward need. 
He never interposed his will against my chosen work. He 
aided me in each reaction, soothing irritated nerves in some 
mysterious way, as he had done when first he came ; and there 
were chance prescriptions — new to me and strangely effica- 
cious ; with cheering promises or rather prophecies. I do 
not know that every spirit has the gift of prophecy; I know 
this spirit had. 

Bear with me: The proofs I had of that identity were 
very many, the number I have given are very few. It seems 
I ought to add a number more, to make you understand 
more definitely how I came to have a vital trust, — saying 
at last to him (and to another after him) : " Lead, and be- 
hold, I follow!" 

During our frequent gatherings for spiritual service — ■ 
" circles " you may call them — I noticed this : On my ac- 
count this kind physician frankly gathered strength from 
others. Of course you understand the law. A minute's 
clasp of circling hands, a fine, magnetic circuit, — you, being 
the weaker, naturally receiving more than you are giving. 
While you retain that borrowed vigor, something may be 
returned in full equivalence to those who gave. But choose 
your comrades warily. We had a roomful — that is, eight 
or ten of us, with no discordant element, — clean lives, clear 
minds, calm judgment, Psychic aspirations. We answered 
very well. 

All this enabled Dr. Andrews to personate himself the 
better, using weak lungs to reproduce the masculine voice, 
yet always leaving them a little stronger than before. 

I noticed something further: Being our chosen lecturer, 
he often paused to lift my hand and look: After this, he 
might go on or stop abruptly, saying " Good-night ! " be- 
yond recall. It seemed a mannerism, till I perceived that 
he was judging by the aura (that odylic force, perhaps, 
" that still from female finger tips burns blue ") how much 
was left of personal and borrowed vigor. Never once did 
he trangress the limit. Meantime, each was at liberty, — he 
to speak his thoughts, and I to think my own. Sometimes I 
disagreed with him at first, and had to be convinced by argu- 
ment or explanation. 



Rue and Rosemary 193 

Once he chose to make us understand that light and music 
are correlative, — colors and sounds responding, each to each. 
This has since been demonstrated; but at the time, I half 
revolted. Not the less when he had finished his discourse, I 
seemed to be among the morning stars ; and lo, they " sang 
together! " 

Once, in effect, he said : " My friend supposes that the 
marriage-bond on earth, if holy, must involve eternal unity. 
That is to say: Love's ultimate perfection may exist where 
all is imperfection ! That is not God's way ! Marriage is 
holy when the highest self you recognize assents. Death 
may dissever even such a bond. I do not say it will." 

" When Dr. Andrews talks to me," said Lydia Brown, 
" he answers even my thoughts. When I am all alone, I 
think of many things I want to ask. He picks them up, 
after I have forgotten them. Sometimes, I feel almost afraid, 
he knows so much, and yet I never was so happy in my life ! " 
In truth he had a way of making people happier, right at 
home. How tolerant he was of human weaknesses! How 
tender were his human S3^mpathies! 

Does this imply continual presence? That cannot be 
imagined. They who are practiced in telepathy (as I am 
not) affirm that they can make themselves appear to others 
half a world away, and even converse with them. It may 
be so. Yet these are hampered with the flesh. 

To come and go — what does that matter to a spirit? 
Less ponderable than light (though ponderable), is not the 
spiritual body yet more swift? From out their realm 
(wherever that may be), they who have left the earth long 
time ago, may, " in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye," 
return and make themselves appear to very common folk. 

Nay! I conceive that one — not being omnipresent — who 
lived with men almost two thousand years ago, will answer 
every voice that cries to him in every wilderness: " Hear 
me and comfort — thou who art the Christ ! " 

Come, let us hear a little more about the Master's poor." * 

One of them came to me one day, when I had dropped my 
pen from weariness, — a total stranger, landed at the door 
by some obliging farmer. You never would have guessed 

* See Appendix X. 



194 A Psychic Autobiography 

that she was " born to trouble as the sparks fly upward." 
Maybe instead she was born to conquer trouble. Certainly 
it had not conquered her. Sixty-five, and blithe and sociable 
— she did not speak of self except to say: " I am a Spiritual- 
ist"; — which led me to suppose she wanted Psychic mes- 
sages. That worried me; such favors come by inspiration, 
not by demand or even strong desire. 

There came a better moment. Unmistakably my friend 
drew near and said : " I wish to talk with her, when you 
are willing." Ashamed not to be willing, I looked at her 
attentively, and presently I felt that she was lovable. I 
said : " Come here and take my hand. We'll have a circle, 
just we two alone." 

Her soft, blue eyes were radiant. I closed my own and 
thought : " She has a sweet, old face ! " But where or how 
she lived or whom she had to love and labor for, I knew 
no more than you. 

Dr. Andrews always introduced himself to strangers with 
a certain ceremony; but now I noted reverence of manner 
and suddenly grew reverent myself. I thank my friend for 
this: Not only did he share with me his knowledge of dis- 
ease, making me see clairvoyantly at times, the physical con- 
dition, but now and then he made me recognize some lustrous 
quality of soul. And here I saw an inner loveliness that 
shamed my late indifference. 

There was no bodily disease, whatever, only a weariness, 
due to hard labor rather than to age. When he had given 
her due advice, instructing her how to conserve her energies 
and what to guard against, he said: " I shall be absent for a 
little while. I wish to find your home." During that ab- 
sence, I perceived that all my frame was quivering as Jerry 
Carter's did, you may remember, when Dr. Hedges left him 
for a similar purpose. I noticed this at later dates, and 
thought it signified a slight relax of physical control, which 
probably was rather stronger than I realized. 

It scarcely seemed a minute ere the trembling passed and 
he was there again. And now he seemed amazed : " You ! 
You! — a woman past her three score years and bearing all 
those burdens! How many lean on you with all their 
weight? One, two, three, four, five, six! Infirm in mind 



Rue and Rosemary 195 

and body, incompetent, sick, helpless, irresponsible! It 
seems too much! Too much! And yet I see no help, — no 
one can take your place; I cannot promise you a swift re- 
lease. You are framed to last, and you will always live for 
others — not for self. Your patience, courage, fortitude and 
faith are wonderful. I honor you! 

" I have but this advice to give: Be happy! I see in you 
a lovely trait. No matter what your troubles are, to see 
another pleased, even in the smallest way, will always make 
you glad." 

Just here the little lady, for the first time, " spoke aloud 
in meeting": "Oh, yes! The other day a stranger stopped 
to smell my laylocks ; it gave me lots of comfort ! " 

" But even less will make you happy. While you work, 
look here and there in search of beauty. Notice the shadow 
of a leaf, a butter-fly, a door-yard flower, a sunbeam darting 
through your window-vine, a shining drop of dew. See 
every rosy cloud at night and morning. When the rain is 
over, look for the rainbow. Even if you never turn your 
head something beautiful will pass before your eyes. When 
it comes, keep thinking of it. Make the pleasure last as long 
as possible." 

" I will ! Indeed I will ! Thank you for telling me ! I 
shall be happier all my life, because a spirit saw and un- 
derstood ! " 

I also understood a little, at a later time. Her poor, old 
husband was insane, at home; her son had lost the power 
or lost the will to work; his fretful wife — who never left 
her bed — exacted wearying service. Three little children 
counted up the six; and all the household labor fell on her. 
Now, twelve years later, when I asked for her, they said: 
" She is always cheerful — always taking care of others. Age 
has made no difference." What need to tell her name? Is 
it not written in the " Book of Life ? " 

But why was nothing said about some great reward in 
future life? a crown, a harp of gold, a four-square City — 
every gate one pearl? 

Love's highest recompense for work is — yet more work. 
Meantime the spirit gave her what she needed — something 
for here and now. Rewards are consequences; but " very 



196 A Psychic Autobiography 

present help in time of need," is better than to hear of 
Canaan's grapes — far-off, beyond the Jordan. 

Another woman needed " present help." Certain friends 
appealed to me: "A poor man's wife has broken down. 
There seems no hope of saving her; and yet she must be 
saved if possible. There are nine children — the oldest but 
seventeen. What can her husband do without her ? " 
Truly a pitiful case! Mr. and Mrs. Brown proposed that 
I should visit her with them and, peradventure, with another 
friend — invisible but very prone to help. 

We found her sitting in her easy chair, directing house- 
hold work. One of the nine was absent — an intellectual 
wonder, people thought — working his way through school. 
You understood that Millard was beloved exceedingly. The 
eight remaining (one a year-old baby), were hustled out of 
sight. Only the husband stayed. 

I said that Dr. Andrews made me see disease — that is to 
say the havoc that disease had made within the physical 
structure. Perhaps I should have said : " I saw it of my- 
self, after he had induced the Psychic trance." I never 
saw it under other influence than his. He, as a doctor, 
looked for that. He doubtless took the lead; I, as a sub- 
ject, followed. 

Internal photographs, made by invisible rays, are not at 
all miraculous. No doubt still finer " particles of light " 
make perfect pictures meet for finer eyes. Psychometry, 
clairvoyance, astral-vision — call it what you will, there is 
an inner sight that pierces the opaque. 

And so I saw a torpid frame, an ever lagging pulse, a 
tendency to physical destruction everywhere. 

Dr. Andrews saw, it proved, that something might be 
done to keep the mother just a little longer where she was 
needed most. I think he spent a half hour talking to her 
husband, whom he installed, at once, as nurse and doctor. 
Diet and stimulating baths and rest and sleep, with herbal 
remedies, — he outlined all the scheme; so many things to 
do, so many not to do, — and, last of all a semi-daily, gentle 
flagellation ! 

The husband promised all — even to the flexible twigs; 
and then the Doctor turned to her: 



Rue and Rosemary 197 

" Dear Lady, all this care will bring about a marked im- 
provement. Your friends will say that you are getting well. 
But you are very brave; it will not harm you in the least 
to know the actual truth." 

" That is exactly what I want to know," the patient said 
with emphasis. " I am not afraid of Death." 

" I see that you have many children. You have a certain 
time in which to plan for them, and there is much to do. I 
have the power to say how long that time will be. Do you 
desire to know? " 

" Most certainly! " 

" Two months ! No more, no less." 

" Thank you with all my heart. You have rendered me 
the greatest service. Now I can lay my plans, and I shall 
know just what I ought to do." 

Well, so it was. We heard that she was getting well and 
working busily — setting her house in order, making and 
mending dresses, jackets and the like, just as a mother will. 
Oh, she was almost well ! 

Did Dr. Andrews know how, in that final week, Millard 
would hear " the bird's voice " calling him and rise up 
swiftly, going where he would? And how the bird would 
call a second time — the stricken mother rising up to follow? 

Rue for sorrow — rosemary for sweet remembrance. 

Her friends believed she might have lived much longer 
but for Millard's death. 

One would think the Spirit must have known.* " Two 
months no more, no less! " — even as it proved. 

But now I hear you say: "Where were the doubters all 
this while? Why did you not convince a few of them?" 
You know that mediumship was not my personal calling. 
God speaks and we must hear and answer. After that, the 
angels possibly. And yet there were a few " of little faith " 
to whom the hand was reached, as, for example: 

Alonzo Hawley tapped at my study-door one Sabbath 
afternoon. He said : " There is a family party at the gate 
— two wagons full. We have some distant cousins visiting 
us. The man is out of health. He says the doctors haven't 

* See Appendix XI. 



198 A Psychic Autobiography 

done him any good, and we've persuaded him to come to 
you. He is not a Spiritualist — he never saw a medium and 
has a prejudice; but we've explained to him that you are 
not a medium for hire but only one of us, our dear and inti- 
mate friend; so he consents to come. He means to be as 
fair as maybe; and if your Spirit-doctor seem to under- 
stand the case, he'll follow all directions. Still he wants the 
strictest possible conditions. You are not even to look at 
him; and I have pledged myself to tell you nothing more." 

" Very well," I answered : " Seat your family party in 
the parlor, and leave a vacant chair for me. When I am 
fully ready, I'll go in." 

So I abased my eyes, went in, sat down and shut them 
instantly. Then Mr. Hawley said to Dr. Andrews : " Some 
one is present, who would like advice." " You will bring 
the gentleman here," said Dr. Andrews, " and you will in- 
troduce him properly." His chair was far as possible from 
mine, and I suppose that he had meant to keep the distance. 
Still he came, a little slowly, as I thought, and Mr. Hawley 
gave the introduction. Dr. Andrews took his hand and 
said : "I am glad to meet you. Please sit down," then 
turned almost at once: " How many times within the last 
year have you most ardently wished that you were dead? 
Just twelve times! " 

I heard a woman's voice cry out : " Oh no ! You haven't 
wished that you were dead!" 

Her husband answered, using Dr. Andrews words with 
bitter emphasis: "Just twelve times!" 

He did not speak again, although the talk was long. I 
find it difficult to discriminate here, between the spoken 
words and what I realized. The spirit said that those " at- 
tacks " were chiefly due to his " inordinate ambition " ; that 
he had taxed the brain almost beyond endurance, and borne 
the strain of " governing turbulent elements " as long as 
could be done without complete collapse. I understood that 
he had been a teacher, and I had a sense of multitude: " So 
many undeveloped minds!" I thought. "It must have 
been distracting ! " Enough was spoken out to prove the 
spirit's actual knowledge, and yet there was a certain reti- 
cence* The gentleman said to Mr. Hawley afterwards: " If 



Rue and Rosemary 199 

I had been alone with Dr. Andrews, he would have told me 
even more." 

And truly, had the spirit plainly stated : " Sir, you have 
had twelve cataleptic fits within the year," that would have 
been to bruit abroad what he, through pride, had sedulously 
kept concealed. Albeit I was afterward allowed to know. 

As for the remedies; rest from care and study, stringency 
in diet, constant recreation, persistent cheerfulness, were all 
enjoined; but to prevent "recurrence of attacks," one medi- 
cine must be depended on — a tea of white field-daisies. 

One of the farmers present — Casper Clough — sang out: 
" Thank Heaven if the pesky things can be of any use ! " 
None of us knew them as a medicine, but some years later 
in a Botanic Pharmacy in Providence, I asked for informa- 
tion. Books were hunted up, and white field-daisies found 
to be the one specific remedy for catalepsy. 

This patient was a City High School principal, traveling 
through the long vacation for his health; but not as yet con- 
senting to resign — as afterward he did.* 

Frankie Marvin's case was far more difficult — incurable 
in fact. For reasons not above plain common sense, I choose 
to tell the story; also, for Psychic reasons. If the latter tax 
credulity, I cry you mercy! I have no right to leave them 
out; and still I have a right to my apologetic word. 

You being a medium, — whatever message comes to you 
alone, is not to be forgotten; nor any simple message given 
to you for others. But when a spirit personates himself, 
converses, answers questions, lectures, talks philosophy, you 
hear, as do the rest, remembering the sense and oftentimes 
the words, but not infallibly. And so it was with me. The 
Psychic trance (not the hypnotic), is characterized, as we 
have seen, by independent vision, independent thinking and no 
abnormal loss of memory. Whatever fixes my attention in the 
trance, as in my daily life, is kept a long time in the reach of 
recollection. What I forget is what I have not cared about. 

Dr. Marvin (rarely equaled as a diagnost), drove up one 
autumn day to Mr. Brown's and called me out: "Our 
Frankie's very sick. Neither her mother nor myself can 
understand her symptoms. Auntie Bundy says you have a 

* See Appendix XII. 



200 A Psychic Autobiography 

spirit-doctor. That is our only hope. If he can't save her, 
Frankie's got to die! " 

I had talked with her but once; then I had seen that she 
was fine and intellectual. A teacher, barely twenty-five, — ■ 
surely the world had need of her ! I said in haste : " Frankie 
shall not die if she can possibly be saved through me." 

So the next day, being the Sabbath (when it is " lawful 
to do well" and most convenient for a busy farmer), Mr. 
and Mrs. Brown and I went to " Jerusalem Corners," and 
found our temple in a sick girl's chamber — perhaps the very 
one whence Lucy Hard had slipped from sight, some four- 
teen years before. 

We sat by Frankie's bed, holding her hands, excluding 
Dr. and Mrs. Marvin, who were far too much perturbed 
to act as harmonizers. Both my assisting friends abounded, 
one might say, in Psycho-physical magnetism — always at my 
disposal in such a time of need ; or rather at my guardian's 
disposal, peradventure. I think he paid them back in 
Psychic pleasure; — / paid in loving gratitude. 

Leaning above the smiling girl, I closed my lids and found 
that it was given me to see with inner eyes — piercing through 
outward walls of flesh and bone — that which was no less 
physical within. First I perceived, scattered along the ali- 
mentary tract, as with a lavish hand, inert, metallic atoms. 
They might not have been visible to open vision, even 
through a microscopic lens; but there they were, and else- 
where — everywhere it seemed ; no more to be removed than 
clinging dust blown in upon a wayside rose. I thought 
" Gunpowder looks like that." And then I saw the blood 
go traveling along the arteries, carrying its crimson through 
the heart and lungs, but growing paler toward the extremi- 
ties, so that when it reached the feet there was no color left. 
Then Dr. Andrews courteously greeting Frankie, after his 
usual manner, took the matter up, describing just what I 
had seen as a condition, not as a disease. The mother said: 
" All that explains why I can never start a tinge on Frankie's 
feet by friction or by artificial heat, — even to the point of 
burning." 

But Dr. Marvin urged : " I want to know the cause ; and 
whether there is any possible cure." 



Rue and Rosemary 201 

Dr. Andrews turned to the tranquil girl : " I see that 
you are not afraid to face the truth." 

"Oh, I must have the truth! I'm not an infant. Let 
me hear it all." 

" That is your right." Then as one doctor counseling 
another courteously, he talked with Dr. Marvin. 

I cannot with exactness, give the words, but this is what 
we fully comprehended. Each brain-cell is a battery which 
generates electro-vital or galvanic fluid, so giving out its 
current to unite with other currents and keep the human 
frame endowed with energy. Today the statement is fa- 
miliar, but forty years ago it might have challenged doubt. 

Over all these batteries presides the Sovereign Mind, ap- 
portioning to every faculty its task — differing from that of 
other faculties. Each has its definite location, its individual 
laboratory, its complement of cells. Let but a single faculty 
grow slack in effort, throughout the system everywhere there 
is a definite loss. 

No particle of food or bodily provision can be appropri- 
ated till it is duly vitalized or charged magnetically or 
moved upon by one, at least, of these electric currents (un- 
erringly selective). So, being energized, each atom springs 
along — not waiting to be dragged — and finds, should noth- 
ing intervene, its predetermined path and destined stopping 
place; or, being meant to keep afloat, will lend its force to 
all the rest. So here we have innumerable batteries, one 
united MIND made up of many lesser minds, each capable 
of thinking, willing, acting, generating power for mental 
contribution. So life and growth and health and God's 
humanity result. 

This, for example: That faculty we call Combativeness, 
among its other offices must take in charge the inorganic 
particles of iron, electrifying them or giving them magnetic 
properties; then each one leaps along, hurrying — not hinder- 
ing — the blood, encrimsoning it, sustaining life and beauti- 
fying flesh. Otherwise, not being duly vitalized, these mole- 
cules will drag, will drop wherever it may chance — infini- 
tesimal, but menacing to life. 

Now this dear, dying girl, who had combativeness enough 
to spur the intellect, had not enough to give resisting force. 



202 A Psychic Autobiography 

The breath of wind that keeps your kites afloat, will not 
suffice to grind your necessary corn. All this and more, 
our kind physician made us understand, — saying at last of 
Frankie : 

" That is why you have never seen her angry." 

" Not once in all my life! " the mother testified. 

Said Dr. Marvin : " This is what I have never found in 
all my books, and now I understand those baffling symptoms ! 
But is there any hope? " 

" There would be hope if there could come to her, at 
once, some unexpected, unimagined, overwhelming joy; 
something to capture every faculty. But that is not to be. 
And still, a little may be done. What I can do, I will. 
The rest I leave with you." 

Just two hours after that, I sat at ease, observing Mrs. 
Brown, who flitted to and fro about her household work. 
Then, suddenly, beyond all thought or dream, I lifted up 
my eyes and saw a spirit. A veritable Arab, slender, brown 
and young and supple, one might think, as any desert pan- 
ther. Turban and tunic white as drifted snow, sash vivid 
crimson, he needed but a flashing scimitar to seem embodied 
fire. 

Right from the East and facing West, he paused and 
stood, and met my eyes with such a piercing gaze it seemed 
that he had never seen my like before. A Bedouin very 
likely — a slayer possibly, and yet if that were true, I think 
he had been " purged with hyssop." He seemed a son of 
Eli, clean before the Lord. 

I quivered with desire to understand. So, when the 
"chores" were done, I called my friends! "I have had so 
wonderful a vision, that even soon as this, I want another in- 
terview with Dr. Andrews." 

Now, (as at other times by inference) I learned that 
spirits lead a marvelous life. This one, I doubt not, might 
have said: 

" I pass, like night, from land to land ; 
I have strange power of speech." 

Instead he only said, right pleasantly: " Since I was with 



Rue and Rosemary 203 

you last, I have been a traveler ; I have journeyed to Arabia. 
Does that seem far away! I found and brought along with 
me a young Arabian — a fine and worthy spirit. 

" And yet, in earthly life, he was a very son of wrath, — 
ready to kill upon the slightest provocation. Now he is full 
of mercy! but he can never lose that fire and energy. The 
sinking girl is very low, but more than any spirit I have 
met, he has the power to rouse her into anger. ^This he is 
pledged to do. Under that stimulus she will rally for a 
time, but not for very long. It is not best to tell her 
parents, but I say to you that she will leave in two months 
and a half." 

Does it seem incredible that even a spirit could calculate 
so closely, and speak of life and death with such a certainty? 
This spirit did, not once or twice alone, but when it must 
be done. 

Next Sabbath-day we went to visit Frankie, and found 
her dressed and very much improved. " Tell her about the 
Arabian ! " urged Mrs. Brown. When I had told it, Frankie 
said, with laughter : " You should have let me tell my story 
first. About the hour you name, I had a fit of temper; — 
more than a fit; it lasted just three days. I was brimful of 
ugliness. I said the most sarcastic things I could imagine. 
I don't see how my people bore it. I was unbearable. 
Mother can tell you all about it. A friend, whom I ex- 
pected, came as soon as possible; and yet I taunted him: 
' You have honored me by coming — rather late ! My friends 
delayed the funeral; they thought perhaps you'd like to view 
the corpse.' " A sorry lover's welcome; — " top-full of direst 
cruelty ! " 

" It was very hard to bear," her mother said. " But 
then it gave us hope." 

So Frankie left her bed, took pleasant rides, called in her 
special friends, stood up prettily in white and said " I will," 
went through a lengthened honey-moon, and sank away at 
the predicted time. After that, no doubt she had her un- 
imagined, overwhelming joy; although she came and made 
her sweet complaint : " Too sunny ! " 

But is there not a sheltering Tree of Life, to cast soft 
shadows, meet for dazzled eyes? — not darkness: never that! 



204 A Psychic Autobiography 

Our modern Israel's sweetest singer, Emma Lazarus, 
dictated on her dying day: 

" It is blackest night between the stars, 
And how is a soul to see ? " 

What right have we, who have learned that life and light 
are one, to let these wandering souls go down the road un- 
taught and unconsoled? 

I sometimes thought my guardian made his moods my own. 
Thinking his thoughts, Death seemed to me of little mo- 
ment, — something indeed to be deferred as long as possible 
(that being a doctor's way), but not to be deplored. For 
those who lived and sorrowed, he showed abundant pity, — 
little for those who were about to die. One time, in talk, 
he let us know that every added hour on earth augments 
the life to come; so necessary is the physical foothold to the 
eternal traveler! Who, even imagining that, would be a 
suicide? After which he spoke of murderers of babes, and 
bitter expiation; also of compensating laws and life and 
growth, even for the least of these so robbed of human name 
and place. 

It came my turn to ask a special favor. My sisters wrote, 
indefinitely, that mother's health was poor. They knew but 
little of that inner life of which my mother knew so much. 
For since she had elected to remain a Methodist, I thought 
to proselyte would be dishonorable, even had I the power. 
But now I asked of Dr. Andrews: " Will you visit mother 
and prescribe ? " 

There was no need to indicate the road (which I had 
never traveled) ; for she and I were so allied, that, not our 
sympathies alone, but our antagonisms kept us close in touch. 
My guardian went to see her; — so far as I can judge, I 
went myself. I had a singular triple consciousness. Not 
aware of going, yet I was perfectly aware of her, of him, of 
me; — even of my frame that quivered constantly, — who 
knows why? I leaned above my mother, searching the body 
through with Psychic, Psycho-physical or Psychometric eyes. 

Chiefly I saw a much diseased, discolored liver, certain to 
poison all the springs of life, unless some magic remedies 



Rue and Rosemary 205 

could interpose to cleanse. These were prescribed by Dr. 
Andrews, when he spoke at last, after his usual manner. 
You understand he gave me little, telepathic messages at 
times, but always spoke aloud when there was much to say. 
This time he told me how my mother suffered deep dis- 
couragement. He imitated her and sighed and said : " Oh, 
dear ! Oh, dear ! Oh, dear ! " most piteously. 

That was not like my proud, courageous mother. Yet, 
when I wrote the Psychic story home, my oldest sister (quite 
severely Methodistic) answered: "If you could hear her 
say, as we do constantly : ' Oh, dear ! Oh, dear ! Oh, 
dear!' you would realize how very sick she is!" And so 
the medicines were taken just as my guardian ordered, and 
health somewhat renewed. They were two botanic — old- 
fashioned liver remedies it proved. I used to wonder that a 
Boston doctor, practising so long before, had chiefly dealt in 
simples; but these belonged essentially to Eastern thera- 
peutics. Partly traditional among the Puritans, partly 
adopted from the Indian tribes, the people valued them. 
Unhappy day when doctors threw them out ! 

Whether I went to see my mother or Dr. Andrews went 
alone — came back and made me see (as in a picture once 
before), Psychists, among themselves might differ. The fact 
remains — I saw! But that he went at least, I had a curious 
confirmation. One of my younger sisters wrote: " Mother 
has had a lovely dream; and she believes that it relates to 
you. She has been happier ever since." 

Unknown to mother I was just about to publish my "At- 
lantis " — Poems of the war and other verse, intending to 
surprise her happily. 

And now I thought: " If I could just be told what mother 
dreamed and write the story home, that ought to give them 
still more confidence." When next the spirit came he said : 
" It was a beautiful dream of flowers and light, — induced 
by me to make your mother cheerful." Nothing very defi- 
nite it seemed, and yet I wrote the very words to her and 
asked her what they meant. 

She answered through my sister : " This is what I 
dreamed: I stood within a garden, looking at a rare and 
singular plant. It had no leaves and but a single stem — 



206 A Psychic Autobiography 

tall, tapering and absolutely white. Right at the top were 
two large, wonderful, shining flowers — white without and 
white and lavender within. I asked: 'What is the name 
of this?' and some one answered: ' It is called the candle- 
plant, because it gives out light.' I said: ' I want a slip of 
it. I want it in my garden. How shall I get the slip ? ' 
And I was answered : ' This is your garden ; and the plant 
is yours ! ' Then I reasoned : ' A plant that gives out light 
must be a symbol. What does it symbolize ? ' and I was 
told." 

Now what the symbol meant is not for me to say; but 
this I realized : Whoever made my mother happier had much 
enriched myself. 



XX 

THE WAY OF A SPIRIT 




N occulist detects the faulty sight. The 
Psychist finds no flaw in spirit-eyes. They 
need no telescope to see far off, — across 
the earth or out among the stars; nor any 
magnifying lens to view the ultimate atom. 
Within their line of vision, nothing blurs 
the backward-looking sight; whatever came 
to light a million years ago, they see as well as that which 
happened yesterday, or happens on the instant, even while 
they gaze. " All this I steadfastly believe." 

To me, the greatest wonder lies in this: How souls in- 
carnated can ever be content with visual limitation when 
all the radiant universe is waiting to be seen. 

Within my gallery of Psychic pictures — invisible to any 
save myself — hang, here and there, those that have borne 
invincibly the test of outward proof. I hold them not more 
genuine than others. On one and all alike is set the master- 
signature. 

This faculty of seeing without the visual orbs, belongs 
to all mankind. Latent or evident, held in reserve for 
higher spheres, or active in the human life, this proof of im- 
mortality exists in every soul. If one perceives more readily 
than many, that argues no superiority — only, perhaps, a 
somewhat earlier development. The " plant that gives out 
light " springs white from every soil. 

To be so sure, one must be fortified with facts. There 
have been times when I have seen from far (not being asleep 
in any sense, nor always with the eyelids closed), those who 
were living in the flesh but totally unknown to me; and 
afterward have met them face to face — color for color, line 
for line, wrinkle for wrinkle. That is living demonstration ! 

207 



208 A Psychic Autobiography 

One of these incidents I have related. Trifling, inconse- 
quent and even ludicrous, it had the element of prophecy, 
and so was dignified immeasurably. This one which fol- 
lows, albeit not prophetic, has value, since it shows that 
spirits have a sense of fellowship, and sympathize with us 
in little troubles hardly to be thought afflictive. 

Mr. Brown received a letter stating that his father — 
whose twentieth child was taking care of him — was in the 
act of death; and adding that a telegram should follow 
soon as he had breathed his last. So twice a day the son 
drove several miles to get the promised message, all in vain; 
till he was forced to let the matter drop. 

One day his wife came down to visit Mrs. Higley, Nettie 
and myself ; and after dinner Nettie urged : " You older 
ones can talk with Dr. Andrews — why not I ? " And so 
we gathered for a little circle, — she also being given, at last, 
her bit of " bread with honey-comb." Before the spirit 
spoke, after I was aware of him, he turned my head around, 
requiring me to look away toward the East. I felt a vi- 
bratory motion first, and then I seemed to gaze through 
empty space, a long way off. " What is to see ? " I won- 
dered. 

Now here is something strange. Nothing obstructs the 
Psychic sight. No dungeon walls could be so thick that such 
a vision could not pierce them through as they were thin- 
nest ether, — and find, if so the soul desired, the squalid 
prisoner within. Even more strange: The prisoner, himself 
a solid fact, would start in view — a visible man in rags, and 
every rag as visible as he. It seems the soul elects to see or 
not to see, according to its will. Matter or spirit, either 
one or both, the eyes behold, and brook no interference. 

And so I looked, or went, I know not which (with my 
companion consciously at hand), right through the inter- 
vening hills and through the plastered walls, without per- 
ceiving them, until I saw a very sick old man. I knew 
(impossible to say just how I knew!), that this was Levi's 
father. 

Dressed in a clean white shirt, his rocking chair spread 
with a clean white quilt — brought round to wrap his knees, 



The Way of a Spirit 209 

his arms upon the elbows, his eyes fixed steadily upon the 
floor, — he certainly was not a dying man. 

And now observe: I saw the shell-work pattern stitched 
upon the quilt, as surely as I saw the man himself! — the 
square, strong face, the tuft of grizzled hair above the fore- 
head (a little baldness either side), the slightly opened 
mouth, the pallid flesh, the listless attitude! — Such is the 
excellence of spirit sight. 

Without the slightest doubt, I sent my re-assuring word 
to Mr. Brown: " Your father is alive, and convalescent! " 

Nothing more was learned till eight weeks afterward. 
Then, taking tea alone with Mrs. Brown, I saw the outer 
door swing open and on the threshold stepped my sick, old 
man! I leaped up crying: "Here is Levi's father !" and 
ran to bring an easy chair. Doffing his hat, he sat him 
down therein, his arms upon the elbows, his eyes upon the 
floor — inert and pale, with slightly opened mouth, a tuft of 
hair — not altogether gray — crowning the grand, old head! 
Nothing was lacking but the invalid's dress and the white 
quilt brought round to hide the knees.* 

But let me add: I saw him no more clearly than I saw 
my scowling Texas Indian, my Englishman in corduroy 
who fired his guns, my mastodon that lived, we'll guess, five 
thousand years ago, my Quaker lady far away in space, who 
pointed me to earth, my old man walking on the clouds be- 
hind his wayward son, the son himself — a wan consumptive 
just about to die. 

Time past erects no barrier before the Psychic eyes. 
Time present lets them rove at will, — ignoring all but that 
one thing the spirit means to see and that is never hidden! 
Time future laughs behind his blackest cloud to see what 
deathless orbs peer through! 

And now some mis-believing friend might cry : " Look ! 
How she tries to overlay with gold her carven-work of 
knops and flowers and foolish little stems ! " Suppose I do : 
Are they not wrought in cedar — sweet and serviceable, cut 
for the Lord's own house? 

Now since there is an infinite future latent in the Mind 
of God, why not a finite future latent in the mind of man? 

* See Appendix XIII. 



210 A Psychic Autobiography 

One glimpse thereof establishes the truth. However nar- 
row be the scope, our lives are drawn in one continuous line 
with that which never dies. Past, present, future — depth 
and height and ever widening vision, all are ours! 

And so I linger for awhile to pluck these little road-side 
flowers of which I predicate perpetual bloom! — for verily, 
were nothing else in sight, a thistle-plant would demon- 
strate eternal energy! I interject what happened twelve 
years further on. 

Letters had passed between a Manufacturing Company 
and myself concerning one of my inventions. By invitation, 
I was speeding toward Erie, Pennsylvania, for a personal 
interview. 

Chancing to close my eyes for rest, I saw a gentleman ap- 
proaching, ten feet or so away, and looking at a little card 
held up for scrutiny. Very pale he was and evidently sick. 
I had a clear three-quarter's view of a peculiar face that 
seemed a racial type. Fine, sensitive, strong yet non-assertive, 
pleasing yet puzzling, — evidently Jewish, though not a com- 
mon Jewish face by any means; withal so young I felt as- 
tonishment, even while I said : " Why, that is Charles 
Jarecki ! " I had supposed him old. 

Some six hours later, at the Company's Office, I handed 
in my card and asked to see the President. I was told : 
" His brother, Charles, has written all the letters. He is 
dangerously sick to-day and can't be seen." A boy ran in 
announcing: " Mr. Charles is better. He is up and dressed." 
" In that case, call and send him in your card. His wife 
can tell you when to call again." 

Exceedingly prosaic! I went that evening: In walked 
Charles Jarecki, holding up my card, and giving me, at 
first, a clear, three-quarter's view of that same pallid face 
that I had seen eight hours before, — kind, fine, attractive, 
young, and stamped with honor's signet, — a Poland-Jewish 
face that I am glad to let you see among my Psychic pictures ! 

Here is the absolute fact : A man not seen before, appeared 
to me exactly as he would appear, when I should see him 
eight hours afterward. 

But at the very instant of the seeing, the man was in the 
throes of Cholera Morbus! The time between was short, 



The Way of a Spirit 211 

but what of that? One such prevision came to me, in fact, 
three months, at least, before fulfilment — absolute as this! 
I apprehend that greater souls have looked through many 
centuries to come and prophesied momentous happenings. 
Did not Isaiah live? And John, the Revelator? 

So back to my Progressive Friends, whom I was soon to 
leave: My book, at last, was in the printer's hands, and I 
was much in need of physical restoration. Consulting Dr. 
Hubbard Foster, (removed to Buffalo) he ordered me away 
to Dr. Green, who, with himself, had saved me nine years 
earlier; and straightway wrote to her that she must take me 
in, though every room she had were doubly occupied. 

Much averse to giving trouble, I wrote to Dr. Green that 
I should stop along the way, seven miles above Castile, till, 
somewhere in her crowded Water-Cure, there might be 
found a vacant corner. What happened at the stopping 
place, is what I choose to tell. 

Near Warsaw lived a gentleman and lady whom I had 
met but twice. First, at a Hemlock Hall convention, dur- 
ing which the lady shared my room, and somehow seized 
upon me as a source of comfort — socially, not otherwise. 
My mediumistic possibilities were in abeyance for a time — 
not to be spoken of to strangers. The following year, these 
people came again and sought me out with such affection, 
I was deeply moved. Said Mary, Queen of Scots: " I have 
been much beloved." And I may say as well : " I have 
been much befriended ! " 

Learning from Mr. Brown that Psychic messages were 
often given out by me, among my intimates, this lady asked, 
with hesitation, whether I thought she also might be fav- 
ored. It afterward appeared that she had lost a son (some- 
what estranged after her second marriage), from whom she 
longed to hear. She supposed he had been shot in battle 
and buried on the field. She did not speak of this; but 
seeing her anxiety though I was ill, I took her hand and 
waited, hoping some small revelation might content the 
lady. Nothing came from Dr. Andrews, in the usual way; 
but some young soldier — name unknown — informed her that 
the one she wished to know about was fighting Indians. He 
amplified the statement by giving us, in a sort of head-long 



212 A Psychic Autobiography 

way, the story of a recent skirmish, and how the soldier 
fought while " dodging bullets." 

But since he did not say out-right : " This one you wish 
to hear from is your son," the lady seemed bewildered: " I 
can't imagine what is meant! My boy was killed almost 
two years ago." 

But, very like Prof. Lowell's " ghost " who, " could not 
eat a dinner without endangering his constitution," this son 
of her's considered as a ghost, had gone much further and 
ruined his entirely, by entering the regular army and fight- 
ing Indians merrily, without sufficient grace to let his 
mother know. This last he did soon after ; and finding from 
his letter that all had been correctly told through me, these 
McWithys would not be denied, but wrote persistently that 
I must visit them as soon as possible. 

Behold me, therefore, just arrived one Saturday afternoon, 
my bonnet not yet off! And verily my hostess saying in a 
breath: "I am rejoiced to see you! You have come just 
in the nick of time! I have a girl — almost a daughter, 
though she works for me — who is full of trouble. She has 
been crying all day long — I mustn't tell you why. I have 
promised her a circle. She knows about my son, and she'll 
believe whatever she is told. I'm sure you will help her 
willingly." 

" I would if that were possible," I said. " But I am 
very sick. I think no spirit could make any use of such a 
tired brain." 

" Oh, well ! We'll have our supper first, and talk about 
the circle afterward. I know you can't refuse." 

Not very cheerful — being waited on at table by a girl of 
singular beauty — nineteen possibly — whose tears " ran down 
like rivers;" nor happifying to be followed to the sitting 
room and made to understand that Undine's very soul might 
trickle off in that salt-water, unless, in some mysterious way, 
myself could lock those lacrymal canals! I grew so sympa- 
thetic, that I said, at last: " I see no hope of being influenced 
by a spirit to tell you what you wish to know. It comes to 
me that someone whom you love has gone away and you're 
afraid he'll not come back. If so, get me a lock of hair or 
something he has worn. I'll try Psychometry." 



The Way of a Spirit 213 

According to a reasonable theory, Psychometry concerns 
the past alone. Still I had once Psychometrized a letter 
that seemed to push me on long past the time of writing, 
(howbeit probably a spirit made me see in that case what the 
letter never could have shown.) I laid the lock of hair 
against my aching forehead and shut my eyes and waited 
wearily. 

Not very long: A rescuing hand drew down my own and 
I was made aware of Dr. Andrews. 

I think we did not go away in search of anyone. We 
looked — / looked, undoubtedly because he chose to have me 
see — a long way off. I saw a man, dressed in rough cloth- 
ing, wearing a black fur cap, sitting upon the steps of a 
back porch belonging to a house built in the woods. With 
his left hand he used a ramrod — cleaning out his gun. A 
sinewy frame, long legs, brown hair, a partial profile visible 
above the chin, but nothing that would certainly identify 
the man above all other men. I understood that he had 
just been hurt and how he had been hurt; but all the rest 
was left to be revealed by some one else. What / saw, the 
spirit usually left for me to tell; what was beyond my 
knowledge he explained. 

Now — holding out the lock of hair — said Dr. Andrews, 
in a jocular way, as one might pacify a foolish child : " Well! 
— It takes women to worry! The head from which this 
hair was cut is supposed to be all right ! In fact, I have just 
seen the man, himself. I found him in the back-woods, 
several hundred miles from here. 

" In firing off his gun, it had recoiled, so his right shoulder 
is considerably injured — not very seriously. Now he is 
cleaning out the barrel, meaning to fire again. You know 
he cannot write; but, if he could, there'd be no way of 
sending off a letter. Heavy rains have made the roads im- 
passable. He can't come back, because he can't get out. 
Now, please to be content! He'll be here just three weeks 
from Wednesday — not a day before! " 

While this was being said, I saw an elderly lady dressed 
in white — most fair and sweet, with glistening silver hair. 
She held a year-old babe, a very beautiful child, — earthly 
enough, you might have thought, to cling about its mother's 



214 A Psychic Autobiography 

neck; and there the mother sat before me, heart and soul 
intent on what the spirit promised. This I fully under- 
stood. 

Therewith he added : " To convince you more, here is 
your grandmother with a message for you. She says : ' Tell 
her the boy is well and happy. I am taking care of him.' " 

When I was all myself again, I described the lady and 
the child minutely to the girl, so that she laughed for pleas- 
ure, recognizing both. But when I told about the man, she 
seemed a little troubled : " He hasn't got a black fur cap." 

"But what does all this mean?" I asked my hostess. 
" You introduce me to a girl who must have been a mother 
years ago — though certainly not twenty. And where's her 
husband? Why did she imagine he was never coming 
back?" 

" It means that she was once betrayed — a child of just 
fifteen. I took her in, and I have kept her ever since. Be- 
fore her baby died, Mr. McWithy hired an Irishman, a really 
worthy fellow, though he cannot read. He fell in love with 
her at once; but fearing to be drafted (though he had 
come from Ireland but a little while before), he ran away 
and hid — he never told us where. After a year he came, 
and they were married very happily. He has gone to get 
his chest of tools and other properties but promised to return 
this very day. She lost all hope this morning, believing he 
had gone forever — just as the other went." 

There really is nothing more to add but this : " Three 
weeks from Wednesday " in walked the husband, wearing 
his black fur cap ; explaining also that the roads, in Northern 
Michigan backwoods, had been so deluged by the rains, not 
even an ox-team could drag the wagons through; and fur- 
thermore in firing off his gun, one day, it had recoiled and 
hurt his shoulder rather badly; and being closely questioned 
he named the time and place : " On a back porch, three 
weeks ago last Saturday, in the afternoon." 

Will anyone presume to say that this was all illusion? 
Or peradventure hypnotism ? — self -hypnotism ? — telepathy ? 
Or anything but what it claimed to be, — a spirit cheering us 
with spirit-intercourse? And, by the way, what is telepathy 
but spirit-intercourse ? 



The Way of a Spirit 215 

Or, be the fact admitted: Was it anyway worth while to 
come from " Beulah Land," merely to tell a nervous woman 
not to worry. In very truth a woman's grief may some- 
times work incalculable harm; and anyway, were Christ 
again on earth, would he not stoop to soothe a crying babe? 

You have read those nursery tales, that tell of mothers 
coming back to save their little ones from cruelties? If 
nothing I have written yet appeals to you, please do not 
turn away this moment. That which has made me happier 
for more than forty years, should have some little interest 
for kindly folk like you. 

When I had said " Good-bye " to Dr. Green (physician, 
saint, — almost without a peer!), I slipped again, with bet- 
ter health, into the heart of things — the pleasant home of 
Mrs. Levi Brown. 

One Sunday afternoon, without an invitation, there came 
to us an unseen guest. He spoke through me, and said that 
he was Levi's brother, William Brown, a sailor. To prove 
his calling, as it seemed, he did some personating, tried to 
be — or was — uncouth, and used a little sailor-slang; then 
laughed and said : " Good-bye ! " 

Mr. Brown remarked : " I never had a brother William. 
I had a brother who enlisted in the Navy under the name 
of " William Brown," and always kept the name. We 
never called him so at home." He said no more, waiting, 
perhaps, some further demonstration. 

The sailor came again that evening, still without request. 
This time I saw him, but I only scrutinized a woman he 
was leading in — who made herself appear as she had been 
on earth — some forty years of age, quite worn away with 
sickness, anxious-eyed and sorely troubled — one who needed 
help. 

I said to Mr. Brown : " Your brother's here and he has 
brought his wife." 

" She was alive when last I heard from her. How does 
she look?" 

" Slender and pale, brown-eyed, brown-haired, and very 
thin. She looks like Mrs. Higley; just that type of woman." 

" Yes, that is true. You couldn't have described her bet- 
ter." 



216 A Psychic Autobiography 

Now at this point my Dr. Andrews intervened, interpret- 
ing, as now and then he did. About these days, he seldom 
came, fearful, I think, of taxing me too much. The instru- 
ment was very weak, but here was ample reason for its use, 
and very urgent need. 

He said : " This woman is unhappy. She tells me she has 
left a daughter twelve years old, alone and friendless — miser- 
able — forlorn. She wishes you to find the child and rescue 
her. Your brother asks you to adopt her as a daughter." 

" Most gladly! Where can she be found? We don't 
know where the mother lived, nor where she died. Two 
years ago, we had a letter. We answered it, but never 
heard again." 

" There is one way to find the child and only one. Write 
to the Post-master of the place from which you had the let- 
ter. Tell him to use all diligence in seeking her. He will 
succeed." 

"What is his name? " asked Mr. Brown. 

"That doesn't signify. Do as I tell you; write to the 
Post-master. There is no other possible way of finding her. 
Let there be no delay. The case is very urgent. The child 
is utterly desolate — utterly desolate ! " 

After a pause the spirit said in a low voice, once again, 
as though in deepest pity: "Utterly desolate!" 

How was it with the child? The agent spent two weeks 
in diligent inquiry and active search. He traced her to a 
cabin in the woods, vacated by the owners for a house three 
miles away. But they had left behind an aged mother, bed- 
ridden, deaf and blind and witless, leaving the little girl to 
take sole care of her. This she had done for many months 
most faithfully, not seeing any human being save the son, 
who came just twice a week to leave provisions — driving off 
without so much as going in to view that living death. 
" Friendless," " alone " and " utterly desolate! " 

Mr. Brown had written : " Notify my brother when she 
is found," and to the brother: "When you are notified, 
please go out and get our niece, and send her here, at my 
expense." 

The brother answered : " She belongs to me as much as 



The Way of a Spirit 217 

she belongs to you. We have had her for a week and can- 
not give her up. She is ours, we have adopted her." 

What good can spirits do? I told you once that by and 
bye I should begin to tell; — and I have just begun. 

Allow one more narration before I pass along to traverse 
broader fields. After a summer spent with Margaret among 
the Cattaraugus hills and breakers, where the water-falls 
went sliding over to find the creeks below (upon a farm 
more dear to me than any place on earth), I found myself 
the inmate of a Buffalo Air-Cure, that had just been opened. 
There during seven months, I spent two hours each day, 
with others, in a tank lighted with plate-glass windows, 
breathing and living in a more than doubled atmosphere. 

" Your heart is tired to death! " said Dr. Foster. " Noth- 
ing else can save you." And, by the way, that compressed 
air-bath cured my Margaret's niece, who had consumption 
in the second stage and whom the greatest New York 
specialist condemned to speedy death. But I besought her 
to submit the case to Dr. Foster, who agreed with Dr. 
Flint, but thought her savable by compressed air. She lived 
thereafter twenty years! — albeit with half a lung destroyed! 
yet not an invalid — a working farmer's wife and happy 
mother. And I — " heart tired to death " at thirty-one — be- 
hold me seventy-four and writing still! 

And yet this remedy, that should have saved a hundred 
thousand lives in forty years, is used, I think, to-day in but 
one Sanitarium — that of Clifton Springs! What are the 
doctors doing? 

But for the narrative: Dr. Mary Bryant Burdick tapped 
at my door and introduced a lady barely thirty-five, with 
brilliant eyes and burning cheeks. " Please let her stay 
with you awhile; her room is cold." 

This Mrs. Lydia H (I am not authorized to give 

her name in full), sat down and chatted pleasantly for half 
an hour, not even mentioning that she was miserably sick. 
Then, in a little pause, I was aware of Dr. Andrews, saying 
urgently: " / wish to help this woman." 

" Do you belong to any church ? " I asked. 

" I am a Free- Will Baptist." 



218 A Psychic Autobiography 

" Have you ever known a medium — one who is con- 
trolled by spirits? " 

" I never have." 

" I am obliged to tell you that I am one myself. Just 
now a spirit-doctor came and said : ' I wish to help this 
woman.' Are you willing he should try?" 

" I'm past all possible help, the doctors say." 

" Don't tell me what they say, nor anything about your 
case. Just answer this: May Dr. Andrews (that used to be 
the spirit's name) take up your case through me. He 
wants to do you good and I believe he can." 

Her face was one delight : " And will you come to me 
tomorrow? " 

" At any hour you name." 

I had fore-gathered happily with Dr. Mary Burdick. 
So far as I can recollect, she was the only one in Buffalo, 
who ever heard me speak of Dr. Andrews. She came to 
me and said : " This Mrs. H . . . . whom Doctors have pro- 
nounced incurable, appeals to us. There's nothing we can 
do, except to let her take an air-bath now and then. I'm 
not a Spiritualist but I believe you really are clairvoyant. 
Please see what you can do." 

" Meantime," I said : " Don't tell me anything about 
what ails her. Dr. Andrews told me yesterday he wished to 
help the woman, and I agreed to visit her today." 

So, with no other medical authority, I went to see the 
lady week by week and let my friend conduct her back to 
life. He said, at once: " Consumption of the nerves." He 
showed how they refused to carry, from the over-active 
brain, those vital currents generated fer the body's need; 
and how the death of particles before their time had clogged 
the tissues, so that there had been one monstrous tumor 
(happily removed) ; and there had been paralysis; now there 
were frequent swoonings — not because of heart-disease, as 
other doctors said — but due to causes quite removable. 

How then? Oh, first a change of diet; pea-meal to feed 
the nerves and artichokes '(I never knew for what) ; but 
here's the one and only remedy: 

Hot foot and leg baths to the knees, no less than forty 
minutes long, three times a week, in very strong herb-tea! 



The Way of a Spirit 219 

" There are certain wholesome herbs," he said, " that 
housewives used to stow away for use in time of sickness." 
He named a number, among them " yarrow, tansy, cat-nip, 
motherwort, valerian and penny-royal." " These are live 
herbs," he told us; " they are stored with healing properties 
and, rightly used, they have the power to quicken life. This 
bath, for you, means physical revolution; you will be very 
sick three weeks, and after that will follow gradual recov- 
ery. I do not promise perfect health, but in a year you'll 
say that you are well." 

All this was realized. Whatever stored-up energy these 
many herbs possessed ran through her frame, quickened her 
circulation, set all her flesh a-prickle, made her nerves alive. 
The miracle, it seemed, had verily come to pass. So the lady 
lived, and so she said before the year was ended : " I am 
well!" 

Now eight years after that I met her in Chicago. There 
had been a loss of home and means ; there had been a painful 
bodily injury; but she had risen up from that to earn her 
living. She was teaching elocution and giving public reci- 
tations. 

" Why, how is this? " I asked. " I never knew you were 
an elocutionist." 

" I never was, till I had lost my home, and then a spirit 
came and taught me, so that I could live." 

I cannot tell you how it was; but when I heard her exer- 
cise her gift, I thought: "Whoever taught her understood 
his art I" 



XXI 



TRANSITION 




HAT which is spoken of as mediumship, 
is not miraculous. Even the so-called 
Psychic trance is not abnormal — much less 
supernatural. It comes by natural law, 
as birth and sleep and death must come, 
not otherwise. That is to say: All laws 
are natural. At least, can you conceive of 
one without a physical basis? Or any, obviously operative 
here, that has no reach beyond? 

God does not disunite His peopled worlds — the spirit- 
world and this. They pass for two and yet are altogether 
one. I apprehend there is no law or force or element, which 
does not bear direct or indirect relation to the human frame 
and its immortal guest. What though the incarnate soul is 
soon to be a soul escaped and on the wing? Even so it can- 
not be released from law, but only from " the bondage of 
the law." That which we strive against is that which binds. 
Spirit with law eternally accords. 

But what is law? A gentleman near eighty years of age, 
devout and philanthropic, challenged me ! " Do you believe 
that God will answer prayer? We know that He has made 
His laws. They are inflexible; they govern all alike; there 
is no preference. It is not possible that He should make a 
special law to meet a special case. He could not if He 
would. Why should He think of us at all? That is not 
necessary; He has made His laws! " 

" But you mistake," I said. " God never made a law, — 
He is law." That was not much to say but this resulted : 

Half a year later, I, being far away and uninformed, was 
deep in midnight sleep; — should you prefer, we'll say in 
Psychic trance. I saw him coming slowly toward me, smil- 
ing all the way, and looking at me just as I had seen him 

220 



Transition 221 

look when he was planning some beneficence (which I shall 
tell about most likely, further on). Close by, he gave a 
happy laugh, as though his cup of joy were running over; 
then said, in just his old, incisive way: " Miss Jones, you 
were about right. God is Law ! " And then he passed 
along, still looking back and smiling, till I awoke, and, for 
a fleeting instant, knew that he was there. Not yet three 
days in spirit life, — I think he well believed that God can 
answer prayer. 

If then we speak with angels, whether in sleep or trance, 
or by a happy flow and interflow of thoughts and words, we 
speak by natural law. Perhaps, a little earlier than your- 
self, one whom you call a medium has recognized a spirit 
-world ; — Oh, not his world alone, but yours and mine, — the 
world of all mankind! One world with this — one school 
with ours, — its classes more advanced no doubt, but not be- 
yond our reach! 

If I could meet you, face to face, your hand would clasp 
my own with no more certainty than soul would answer 
soul. You, who are reading this, to me are virtually disem- 
bodied. I do not see you, hear you, touch you in a physical 
sense. I am aware of you. I dare to think you are aware 
of me. Where is the miracle? 

But say that in the natural way (as one prepares to dress 
for any banquet) I step from out this work-a-day attire of 
mortal flesh and come to you in gala dress (such as my 
means afford — not very lustrous, reasonably white) — why 
should you fear to have me as your guest? Why refuse me 
place at table when you serve your costly cates and delicates, 
your melons, grapes and honey? Even a crust with vine- 
gar — should that be all — if shared, would give a sense of 
fellowship. Suppose I find you starving? At least may I 
not whisper in your ear and quote from Holy Writ : " Who- 
ever perished, being innocent?" or urge, with tenderness: 
" Rejoice, and eat and drink; it is the gift of God? " 

Let no one think that Psychic powers are accidents. All 
human tribes and races have one parentage, one homogenesis. 
No single soul can have a super-added faculty or miss an 
attribute. If then I claim to be a " medium " myself, I 
claim no less for you. 



222 A Psychic Autobiography 

Beyond all else, there is an ultimate sense of spirit-contact 
with the Infinite. As though God would not have us 
join His merrymakers till we have burned our rags and 
taken from His very hands new dress and garniture. We 
know that this re-generating touch, sooner or later comes to 
every soul, whether it be a habitant of flesh or " hidden in 
the cloud." Have we not seen Ben Hogan — vilest of the 
vile — spring from the slough upon the instant, going forth 
to be for many years a true Evangelist? Have we not 
known a Harry Orchard — dipped in blood near to the 
drowning point — stand out and call on God and men to 
make him clean through swift and shameful death? 

Still you object: " Since Infinite Grace can do so much, 
what need of finite spirits trooping in? Keep to the higher 
level." 

No less, the fact remains: Our one Redeemer deigns to 
make us co-associates in His redemptive work. Spirit-minis- 
tration, spirit-recognition, spirit-intercourse — these are our 
great prerogatives. Through finite love, we come to appre- 
hend the Infinite. 

Witness this: A man I knew in New York City, 1875, 
had been a delegate from Ireland to the Fenians — welcomed 
with jubilation, dined and wined till swept quite off his feet 
with hospitality. How then? His friends far off, his boon 
companions near — who was to intervene? Besides, what 
Irish gentleman would brook an interference? 

Now, after I had known him long — he walking all that 
time " the straight and narrow path " — he came and told 
me what had so converted him. 

Deep in the night " a spirit passed before his face " — 
nay, there were two, his father and his mother! They came 
and stood beside his bed, and spoke in common necessary 
words! "Son, stop this drinking. It will end in death. 
Go now and hide where none of these will find you. Be 
obedient." 

" I never disobeyed them while they lived," he said. 
" How could I disobey them now ? " And so, by wise direc- 
tion, he had found a place of refuge — half-hotel, half-sani- 
tarium (Laight Street Water Cure), and, to our wonder, 
took a far-off parlor corner, not speaking word to any; till, 



Transition 223 

putting by distrust, we spoke to him and made him one of 
us. So there he stayed, went always to his morning mass, 
and, by and bye, went safely out and started honest busi- 
ness. " To every one his way " — even though he be a dis- 
embodied spirit. 

" Must we believe," you cry, " that any man, fresh from 
his cups, could have a Psychic vision ? Are spirit-visits quite 
so cheap and common ? " 

" Well, for that matter, sunshine, which with babe or 
drunkard " pricks the eyelids wide," is altogether cheap. Sin 
as we may, " the ineffable light comes up." But do illusions 
pass before the eyes by twos, take on familiar forms and 
faces, pause, open lips and speak, say vital words, advise, 
command, convert? Pray do you think hallucinations lead 
to godliness? 

Meantime, with your permission coming back to self; — 
my double atmospheres that have a way of quieting the 
heart by doing half its work, ransacking lungs and burning 
out impurities, detecting every shrunken plasmic cell and 
forcing them to seek for nutrients, had brought that mind 
of me down to a lower level. Physically weak yet reno- 
vated past the danger point, that " mental grip " relaxed. 
" I dare not eat enough," a hungry working-woman said 
when given a plenteous meal, " lest I should get the habit." 
The mortal part of me had got the habit. It took whatever 
vital energy a brain could generate. It starved the poet — 
if so be there was a poet. As for the mediumship, that 
fared no better; it became much like a wilted flower — past 
further bloom. 

When, after some few added weeks among the healing 
pines, I came to Mother's house in June of 1868, I seemed 
a very useless creature. Not that she wanted me to be of 
use; I trust that she was glad to have me back on any 
terms; and yet I felt my disability too much to be content. 
Why, even she — so ill a year or two before — took comfort 
with the hoe and sometimes kept herself full half the day 
a-field, trimming her flower-beds afterward; and if I 
begged: "Come, let me shell the peas!" she smiled and 
said : " This is the way I rest ! " Nothing for me to do 



224 A Psychic Autobiography 

but eat and sleep and roam the woods, and gain a little 
every day, through very idleness. 

Was that, indeed, " the whole of life to live? " Was it 
not rather " all of death to die?" 

And now it seemed that whomsoever God might choose 
for almoner, I was the one left out. No one at hand who 
needed ministration, no one asking for a Psychic gift, poetic 
fervor fled — perhaps forever, baffled with hindrances, pushed 
back from climbing, tossed aside from doing good, the very 
gates of Heaven shut fast against my touch; — what was 
there left to do? 

Not far to seek was this, my underself, — turning away 
from evident mercies, starving before a well-spread feast be- 
cause the sweets were lacking, " choosing darkness rather 
than the light! " Let it be said there was one saving grace; 
my grief was not paraded. Not even my mother guessed 
that " climbing sorrow." At least, I spared her that. 

There came a day when every burden I had ever borne, 
like forest fagots bound in one enormous bundle, seemed 
laid upon me once again; and, no less real to Psychic sense, 
the many years to come were there already, each bringing 
burdens doubly bound, — too great for soul to bear. I saw 
my sisters ride away to church, caught up my hat, fled to the 
woods, and sank full length upon the sward — prone at the 
feet of God. I was not used to violent emotions; but now 
my knees were water; I drank the " cup of trembling." Save 
for one childish instant, I had never known the touch of fear ; 
but now, more terrible than all besides, my underself, come 
uppermost, had made me sore afraid. I cowered before the 
dreadful years to be. 

At worst, I had no fear of God; I fled to Him for help. 
I called upon Him, heart and soul and voice. Here was a 
wrong that He alone could right. I had been called to 
serve, yet I was thrust aside. I had striven long and not 
without result, but now I was forbidden; earth itself would 
have no more of me. Once in the spirit- world, I might 
return, as others had, and reach out helping hands. I 
called on God to give me service there — not leave me idle 
here! I clamored: " Take me now! This very hour. This 



Transition 225 

coming moment! I have a right to work! Take me where 
there is work to do. It is my right! It is my right J " 

Then I was silent. He to whom I spake was just. I 
waited for the Word. 

Lying face down upon the grass — my earthly vision sealed 
— let no one say I had not other eyes. I saw — not far 
above, nor heralded with splendor — one who moved as 
though he would have passed, then paused and turned and 
looked below, — looked in my very eyes. I knew him — not 
because of pictured semblances, though they are somewhat 
like — but in my inmost soul I knew him for the man of men, 
whom nations call the Christ. Once I said that he would 
hear and make reply, whatever desert wanderer called on 
him for help. I had not named his name — I had not 
thought of him; but he was there. 

Was ever human face so stern ? Were ever human eyes so 
tender? 

Words there were none, — neither my own nor those 
which men had used two thousand years ago; and yet so 
long he gazed, with such a mastery of thought and sense, 
I felt and understood what words could never breathe. 

He was aware of me in all my spiritual squalor, yet he 
loved. He made me know that still he held the memory of 
Life's immeasurable anguish, Love's immeasurable grief; 
and, more than that, the poignant memory of many men 
and women tossed to feed the lions, torn upon the rack or 
ringed about with fire — to whom the Spirit ministered of 
old ; also, I was aware of souls, yet living in the flesh, who 
to the uttermost were sacrificing self, because of holy love. 

Before all these my little sorrow was like a flake of snow 
that melts in fervent heat. Then it was given me to un- 
derstand that I must follow them as one far off; that even 
I was chosen both for service and for sacrifice; nor must 
I make complaint. Therewith the vision passed. 

I saw no others, yet I knew of them and how they said 
above me: " Let her be content." I rose — not glad but not 
rebellious — leaned against an oak and sighed : " Nothing re- 
mains save resignation! but, oh, the long, dark years to 
come! How shall I bear the burden of the years? " 



226 A Psychic Autobiography 

" Go home now, and in First Corinthians, read the third 
verse of the second chapter! " 

So came the message. What was this to be? I had no 
memory, nor felt in haste to know. I looked away toward 
my pleasant home and sighed again: " How shall I bear the 
burden of the years?" But when I rose at last, the mes- 
sage came again: 

"Remember now! First Corinthians, second and third." 

Notice: These words were not a repetition. The chal- 
lenge to remember, the little transposition, proved them not 
an echo. So I returned ; and finding all at home, gave them 
a hurried greeting, sought a testament and slipped away to 
read : 

" And I was with you in weakness and in fear and in 
much trembling." 

Since then, through forty years and more, I have not been 
afraid of " height nor depth nor any other creature." 

And now another June had come. Meantime I had been 
stirred, as poets are, so Mrs. Browning says: 

" With Spring's delicious trouble in the ground, — 
Tormented by the quickened blood of roots, 
And softly pricked by golden crocus-sheaves." 

That is to say, my thoughts began to blossom into rhymes. 
Aside from other work I wrote " One night " — a Psychic 
poem, rather long, (published in Scribner's Monthly, 1873) 
and realized that I was done with battle themes and still 
might hope to help a sweeter choristry. 

About those days I had a dream that set me wondering. 
This I choose to tell, because, if I have judged aright, it 
proves that "living persons " — oh, you know the jargon! — 
men and women, in the flesh, can roam in sleep, can visit 
friends, foresee what waits for these, and symbolize, as by 
some miracle, conditions yet to be. There is no proof at 
hand that I, myself, have ever done the like. I prize the 
more this proof that others have. 

I dreamed that I was in a great unfinished building, 
having many rooms whose low partitions did not reach the 
ceilings. There was no litter, all was swept and clean; and 



Transition 227 

someway I was made to know that work was laid aside till 
I should come with means to finish all. How this could 
ever be I had no power to guess. 

So roaming round, within an upper story, I came upon a 
wide palatial flight of stairs; and, looking down, I saw 
below and waiting for me, Mrs. Lydia Brown. 

" Come down," she said. " There's something I must 
show you." 

So I ran down, and after we had cast our arms around 
each other, still holding fast, she drew me to a dusky room 
and to a window curtained heavily. Then, lifting up the 
curtain, and dropping it behind us, so that we could see out- 
side, she said : " Look up into the sky." 

When I had looked, higher than any mountain top, but 
not too high for sight, I saw a group of three, — a man, a 
child, a woman. The man who seemed to be a farmer, was 
sitting tranquilly, reading his weekly paper one would say; 
the child was leaning on his knee, reading a smaller paper; 
the woman, on the further side, stood facing me and lean- 
ing on them both. 

I said : " How very strange that is ! Why do they read 
their papers in the sky? Is that where they belong? " 

She answered : " You are looking only at the man and 
little girl. See if you know the woman." 

" Why, yes! " I said, astonished; " that is myself! " 

She answered : " That is you ! But keep on looking at 
yourself! There's something more to see." 

Now, by and bye, across the face of me, there came a 
startling change. It was the very face of one about to die — 
one in the grasp of death; ghastly and fixed — expressionless, 
save for the eyes that still were open, gazing far through 
space. I looked and wondered, — saying to my friend, but 
not in fear : " Why, surely this is death ! " Then a white 
shaft of light streamed from the East and shone upon my 
face, that changed and presently became the face of one 
who was about to live. But still I leaned upon the child. 
And so my dream went by. 

Soon after this, before the first of August, 1869, one day 
as I was wandering in the woods in half poetic, half relig- 
ious mood (what is poetry if not religion?), I was aware 



228 A Psychic Autobiography 

once more of Dr. Andrews. This was not unusual; — it 
often seemed he came and looked and went away as soon as 
recognized. But now he had a definite purpose — he had 
come for speech. 

Now, understand, those messages we call the telepathic, 
seem like accidental flashes out of some dark lantern may be 
— nothing to rely upon for steady guidance; but always 
when this spirit-friend (or other spirit-friends), had much 
to say, my voice was used and there was personation, just as 
much when I was all alone, as when my dear " Progressive 
Friends " were listening with myself. 

I cannot give his words except approximately, but this is 
what they meant. He said that it was time for me to know 
I had been chosen for a special work, already under weigh. 
He said : " A great work utterly unlike what you have ever 
done." He spoke at length without defining it, but giving 
me to understand that it would call for life-long service, 
taxing brain and body, far beyond what seemed a possible 
limit. He said : " It is not ready for you yet, — you are not 
ready. When the time is ripe you will be called upon." 

"I shall obey," my thoughts replied, "at any sacrifice; 
but what is it to be? " 

" Nothing you can imagine ; nothing you could under- 
stand. You would refuse belief. Even now you almost 
doubt ; but did I ever tell you anything — even in prophecy — 
that was not true? " 

" You never did. Must I appear in public? " 

" Not as a lecturer. What you have to do is deeper, 
broader, more effectual for good." 

" You know," I said, in thought, " how I desire to be a 
poet. Am I to sacrifice my art ? " 

" Not for a thousand worlds! " 

I would not doubt; and yet — was ever faith so tried? 
He said : " Until you altogether trust, I will not come 
again." Nor did he during two full weeks, and then (one 
of the rarest happenings in life for me) I burst out sobbing: 
"Dr. Andrews; / believe!" With that he came at once: 
" First, it is necessary you should go away from home. You 
will be wanted in Chicago. Make your preparations." 

I had in mind that funds would be required. This 



Transition 229 

thought he answered, saying: "All you need will come." 
And so it proved, for certain sums yet due on book accounts, 
but given up as hopeless, drifted in till I was well supplied. 
And so I made me ready for departure, much to Mother's 
wonder. 

I suppose spirits make use of common means to any worthy 
end, much as we mortals do. However, that may be, I 
wrote soon after this to Rev. J. M. Peebles, publisher of 
" Spiritual Songs" (including one of mine), suggesting that 
as he was going to Trebizond, there might be something I 
could do, perhaps, to fill his place in the United States. 

H. N. F. Lewis, of Chicago, proprietor of a popular 
farmer's paper called " The Western Rural" wrote to me 
very soon, saying that Dr. Peebles recommended me, be- 
lieving I was competent to act as editor of " The Universe." 
Would I come down and try? 

A single number had been issued; this I chanced to see. 
It really seemed just what it claimed to be: "A paper in the 
interests of reform." So it was meant to be, and had a corps 
of notable contributors — while it lived ; but oftentimes 
reformers have astigmatism — rays of light running in par- 
allels belike, not coming to a focus on the retina; so nothing 
shows to them exactly as it is. I ought to say that just 
before I went, my faithful friend gave counsel quite suf- 
ficient; and, for more perfect guidance, described the per- 
son and the character of one with whom I had to deal. He 
sent me well prepared. 

"The Universe f" Well, hardly that; not even a sun 
nor yet a morning star. We'll say a comet — not devoid of 
light, but carrying a train that might have blurred a star or 
two; only, like Biela's comet, it somehow lacked a stable 
nucleus. It rather blazed awhile, but truth to tell, I had 
the handling of so many manuscripts of somewhat doubtful 
import (which I edited severely), that I was ill at ease, 
and sought release. But in a month or two it whisked away 
to glorify New York. I did not follow. It was proposed 
and urged that I should be one of the nuclei (Biela's comet 
split, you recollect), and have my name emblazoned on the 
train : " And such a chance to make yourself a reputation," 



230 A Psychic Autobiography 

one philosopher said, " you'll never have again." I never 
did. 

So, being duly meek, I begged of Mr. Lewis : " Put me 
on " The Western Rural " ; make me co-associate with Mr. 
Glen (who did the heavy work). So there I verily stood 
and leaned upon the farmer; yes, and on the child since 
half my work was for the young, who seemed to like it 
well. 

Not having any startling salary, as you may guess, I more 
than doubled cash by writing from dictation after office- 
hours; till by and bye I struck! and, after that, was fairly 
paid, and rather prosperous. My stock — is that the word? — 
was booming. Why, now indeed, my wish to help at home, 
it seemed, might be fulfilled ! But when the June was near 
at hand, a sister wrote that mother's health had broken 
down. 

Well, there were compressed air-baths to be had. I 
wrote to Buffalo at once, engaged a room for her, and hur- 
ried home. " You've always had your way," I told her 
(mindful of shelling peas!) " and now my turn has come." 

" You are doing right," said Dr. Andrews. " Nothing 
can save her life, but there's a little help for her; and I 
must let you know there is no other way to reach your 
Work." And that was prophecy! 

And, oh, but she was sick ! I sent her, under proper care ; 
and round about her flocked her friends of old (as well 
they might! for who but she had helped their sick for many 
years? And who but they could feel such gratitude?) And 
so she stayed four months. 

Meantime, the thought of her (likely to die at any mo- 
ment, so the doctors said) was like a weight of lead. There 
came a " heated term " — air hot almost as when Chicago 
burned — and there was naught to do but struggle on, with 
every thought-pulse beating to the tune of " Mother " — al- 
ways "Mother!" One evening Dr. Andrews came and 
chided me: "Throw off this deep depression; it pulls you 
down and does no good to her. You have one duty to your- 
self. Be cheerful! Get on the right side; and (lifting up 
the voice with emphasis) "get on ' The Bright Side'" 



Transition 231 

" Do you mean ' The Bright Side' — Mr. Alden's paper? 
Am I to leave the ' Rural ' ? " 

" That is what I mean." 

You have all heard of John B. Alden. But for him the 
most of you had never heard of me. I had sent a contri- 
bution. After that he had a way of dropping in to see me 
now and then — a boy you understand, not twenty-two, and 
with a little young folks weekly all his own and rightly 
named " The Bright Side." Once he had said : " Suppose 
you come to me." " I can't in honor. When I struck I got 
my terms. I mustn't run away." 

Now my employer had a pretty scheme for issuing a 
" Young Folks' Rural " — I being there on hand to do the 
work. It's " get and have," you know ; that's natural ! 
Next day he called me to the desk, all smiles: "What will 
you do for me on the new paper?" — "A great deal if you 
pay me for it; nothing unless you do." 

Robert Browning talks about fulgurant eyes; I saw the 
flash of them: " Then you can go ! " 

" I will ; " and went to put my desk in order. 

Presently he came: "Why don't you quarrel?" 

" Oh, I haven't time ! Come, let me show you all these 
pigeon-holes." 

"You wont quarrel!" Really he wanted nothing but a 
righting chance, to make concession. The greater need for 
haste. And yet I liked the man. In one day more " The 
Bright Side " lay upon his desk, announcing me as editor. 
So now in truth I leaned upon the child. 

Just one month's work — one month's essential drill, Es- 
sential? Yes, for that young publisher, of all whom I have 
known, best understood what children ought to have. And 
so I worked and learned ; — I learned of him. 

Then down I went in sickness just as a streamlet, over a 
precipice, loses the last resistance. If I had stayed upon 
" The Western Rural " that would have ended all. 

Now I have given you to understand that Jonathan An- 
drews (friend and spirit-doctor, not ashamed to bear a 
common name) stayed with me, first and last, till he had 
saved my life. Nothing, as yet, has made this evident, and 



232 A Psychic Autobiography 

so I beg for leave to open wide the sick room — let you see 
how very great a task was his to do. 

This " heated term," I spoke of, burned out many a life, 
and all the nurses in Chicago were at work already — none 
was left for me. So Mr. Alden took my editorial place, in 
spite of other strenuous labor; also he took his sister Lydia's 
place (cashier and keeper of accounts) and sent her up to 
have the care of me ; also he brought the best of doctors, and 
came in twice a day himself, to " cheer me up." John and 
Lydia, to me, were certainly God's ministers of Grace." 

Meantime, within my soul, I talked with Dr. Andrews: 
" But is this all the work you promised me? It seems not 
even you can save my life." 

Even my worn-out brain had still some power of Psychic 
apprehension. This is what he made me see : Almost innum- 
erable lines, like telegraphic wires, coming from many 
distances and so converging, center-wise, in me. He said: 
" These are magnetic currents. I am directing them to 
you. They come from every friend who loves you. I use 
their magnetism for you/' This he had done in part be- 
fore, as you remember ; but now it seemed a miracle. Still I 
believed ; and for the moment knew I should be saved, — 
but afterward forgot. 

You think this meant delirium? Well, I admit, (and 
make the most of it). I did not sleep nor even doze for 
fourteen days and nights. Do people sleep upon the rack? 
And this was nothing less. Still I was not delirious. 

On the fifth day I only spoke in whispers. Miss Alden, 
(who was with me every hour) came with a second dose of 
medicine ("swash and sugar-water," say the Allopaths!) 
This I refused : " Don't give me that. It's quinine. The 
doctor promised not to give me quinine; but I perceive the 
effect." 

Distressed, she pleaded : " Do you realize that you are 
going down as fast as possible? I see but little hope. I 
dare not take the least responsibility. Please trust the doc- 
tor." 

" Very well," I said, " I'll take the medicine; but it will 
cost me dear." And I suppose that not again in life nor in 
the " act and article of death," shall I endure such mortal 



Transition 233 

agony as followed soon. There came an ocean-surge of pain 
that rolled through every brain-cell, tore and dragged and 
spent its force, subsided, ebbed away, and left me helpless 
as the dead; then rose again, and sank and rose — oh, well, 
let that suffice! 

About the fourth recurrence, tossed on the top-most wave, 
I found the strength to speak. I thought " Death is no mat- 
ter, but delirium would be too dreadful," so I said to Lydia 
(holding both my hands) : " Don't let me cry! Hold fast! 
Don't let me cry!" "No, No!" she said, and hid her 
face lest I should see the tears; — not soon enough; I saw 
them and they helped! Then — pain just lessening a little, 
voice not wholly gone as yet — my spirit-doctor found some 
thought-stuff left, made me aware of him and told me what 
to do! 

I said, obeying him : " Go, get those grapes, press out the 
juice, bring half a goblet full, and give me every drop." 
Through half-shut eyes I had no power to open wide, I 
watched my nurse beside the window, haloed with girlish 
beauty (soon to be angelic), crushing the fruit I had re- 
fused before, in haste to fill the glass. 

Just as the surge was rolling in once more, she came. If 
Christ himself had said: "Be still!" not sooner had the 
flood rolled back! It never rose again; but there I lay 
speechless, day after day, just looking out and breathing — 
hardly more; till finally I whispered once again. 

That day they brought my Mother. I saw her, through 
the partly open door, push back the two who would have 
aided her and enter — arms out-spread. I thought of mother- 
birds and almost laughed. 

I had been praying for the power to speak aloud, and did 
so with delight. She gave me one long look and said, after 
her whimsical way : " Your voice is down in China ! Let me 
do the talking." You should have heard her entertaining 
me! All the time she thought: " My daughter'll die before 
myself;" and all the time / thought: "I'll go before and 
welcome her ! " 

You see, I somehow lost all thought of life with work, 
and work with sacrifice. The spirit world was near; and 
all I had to do, it seemed (remembering that hymn of Mrs. 



234 A Psychic Autobiography 

Stowe's), was just "To swoon to that from this." More- 
over, had a spirit made me understand how all that moun- 
tain yet was looming large, the calm that saved me would 
have broken up; whereas I lay as one already half in 
Heaven, and so was kept on earth. 

I hate to tell what seems incredible, — well, no, I love to 
tell; but just this once I'll give you leave to doubt — oh, not 
the facts! but that propulsive force that brought the facts 
about. Judge for yourselves if it were latent energy in me 
(just at the door of death), or Psycho-physical power of 
some one else, that pulled me back, at last. 

This was the way of it: The day my mother came I had 
a chill that lasted several hours. That being Sunday, I an- 
nounced to brother (Rev. Rufus Cooley), who had come 
with flowers and benefits, — himself a benediction ! — " I'm 
going back with you on Thursday morning." 

A listening woman tip-toed to the doctor. " She is de- 
lirious. She says she'll leave the city Thursday morning." 

The doctor laughed aloud : " Delirious ! — not much ! 
And if she says she'll leave on Thursday morning, she will 
go-" 

But when he came on Monday morning I was sinking 
steadily, — had lost the power to whisper, or even lift a 
hand. He pondered deeply, then he urged: Will you con- 
sent to take that medicine again? There is no other way 
but that." He charged my brother strictly: "Give her 
three doses only, — the last at four o'clock. More would be 
dangerous." 

Well, brother had been very sick before he came; and 
going off to sleep for half an hour — by special grace he slept 
the whole night through. I also (for the first time), fell 
asleep. And this is what I dreamed: 

A large and florid gentleman stood beside my bed, closely 
regarding me. I thought: " He is a spirit-doctor; he is full 
of spirit power." Were I to see his like in actual or out- 
ward life, I would be sure to say : " That man abounds in 
magnetism. His lightest touch must needs electrify." He 
leaned across and said exactly this: 

" You are preparing to have a long hard chill tomorrow. 
If that should be you cannot leave Chicago Thursday morn- 



Transition 235 

ing. Unless you leave that day you'll die." He gripped me 
by the shoulder: " Get up. I'll help you. Go to the table, 
get that medicine, bring it back and take a spoonful now 
and every half hour through the night." 

I dreamed he lifted me and that I walked on air — 
dreamed that I got the tumbler, brought it back, and took 
the medicine, then set it on the chair beside my bed. Just 
as I set it down, I woke — my hand still on the glass. I felt 
that grip upon my shoulder still, and thinking: "That is 
how he helped me," sank down instantly, and slept. 

How many times he came I did not count. I only know I 
saw him come, over and over, not awaking me, but saying 
briskly: " It is time to take your medicine," and every time 
I partly rose, reached out and took it, never waking till the 
spoon was dropping in the glass. 

Next morning Dr. Davies said : " Why, this is wonderful ! 
This is a favorable change indeed!" Well I could talk, 
and so I told the story. Be sure he did not sneer. 

So Thursday morning Brother Rufus took me in his arms 
and carried me from carriage-bed to railroad-couch, — in 
Mrs. Browning's words: 

" A mere, mere woman, a mere flaccid nerve, 
A kerchief left out all night in the rain." 

He took me — not to mother's house but to his own, my 
sister Emily's; and though I sank and sank, always that 
blessed grape-juice brought me back. 

Two weeks from that return brother and sister left me 
in the care of neighbors and went to Mother's funeral. I 
think she too was there; but after all was done, within an 
hour or so, she came to me. I saw her perfectly. She 
leaned and looked with searching eyes — those great, grey 
eyes that always had been wonderful for telling thoughts! 

" I have been told that you are better. That is hearsay. 
I have come to see, myself." 

I laughed a little — full of pleasure : " Well, you see I'm 
better ? " 

She shook her head, leaned closer, seemed to look me 
through, then nodded, just a little : " But you are pitifully 



236 A Psychic Autobiography 

weak. Still you are gaining." So she went away. Mother 
was apt to know. 

A week or two thereafter, at home among my other sis- 
ters, I learned to walk anew. And very soon there came a 
call from Buffalo: "We need you in the Air-cure, to help 
us out with Hygienic writings — come as soon as possible." 
And Mr. Alden wrote : " Your name is on ' The Bright 
Side ' still, and there is room for anything you write." 

The light was shining on me from the East, and still I 
leaned upon the Child ! I went to Buffalo. 



XXII 



PREPARATION 




OME wise astronomer (not Newton, nor 
La Place nor Schiaparelli and not Pro- 
fessor Lowell ! ) has ventured to presume — 
almost assert — there is no other world 
than ours inhabited. Also he lets us know 
that if there were, the fact to man (one 
man, at least) would be "humiliating." 
Belike he dreads an over-populated spirit-universe — fears 
to be jostled, hates to jostle others. We must allow, if every 
orb of size should, after cooling, prove to be a nursery for 
infant souls, preparing them to soar by billions into ether, 
even Gautama Buddha (wonderful at computation!) could 
not count those emigrating throngs. Still, space is infinite; 
and though, as Solomon avers, " There is no end to all the 
people, even of all that have been before them — they also 
that come after," no one need lack for room. 

Peace be to that astronomer! Come, let us draw a circle 
in the sky, around some constellation (Ursa Major, say) 
and give him all the void enclosed in that periphery, for 
sacro-sanctitude. Thence he shall look abroad on whirling 
nebulae, horrific comets, vast areas of fire where burned out 
stars, encountering, blaze anew, suns multitudinous and 
never-terminating milky-ways — all, save for one small 
world, proofs of an infinite futility. So let him worship 
God, — or, by default, himself! Meanwhile the rest of us 
will find, each one, his vantage-coign, according to his worth. 
At worst, we know that this dear place of our nativity 
has sent, is sending, and for a million years or so will keep 
on sending, souls from out the crush to populate the spheres. 
And some are souls of babes in need of growth, that must 
not be defrauded of the lower life (meant for aggrandize- 
ment). Needs be, they wait a season, close to the teeming 

237 



238 A Psychic Autobiography 

earth, and learn to know the scent of all her flowers, the 
taste of all her fruits; aye, lay their heads, unseen, upon the 
mother's breast, and clasp their arms around the father's 
neck, — so gathering magnetic life and sustenance, till they 
are babes no more. But after that they pass. 

And some are worthy souls of men and women, strong 
for human life and love, not having had their dues. They 
also stay awhile to get what more they need of Psycho- 
physical power and amplitude; and this they use for helping 
other souls — those who are liberated like themselves, or 
those yet wearing bonds. Nor will they turn away from 
sinful ones, for whose redemption God would have them 
serve. 

And some are old and very old. They need no more 
from earth, but love it well, and loiter — looking sweetly 
down on human kind, if possibly some child may want them 
still. They presently are wrapped about with loving arms, 
and so pass onward, turning back with smiles and looking 
up with wonder. 

Moreover, since these loitering super-mortals are ours in 
fellowship (and will be ours forever) inevitable law com- 
pels an interchange. Often we think their thoughts, and take 
them all unconsciously for guidance — so escaping snares. 
Often they urge us into recognition, having inducing power. 
And this they do, not to our deprivation (after that manner 
of the hypnotist), but to our great enlightenment. So, many 
times we know; and now and then we see — nor yet by acci- 
dent. 

We do not see them wholly as they are (save by unusual 
grace) ; but rather as they were, with added radiance. 

It seems to be agreed that the ethereal body (called by St. 
Paul, the "spiritual body") endows these gross integu- 
ments with all the elements that quicken them for life. This 
it does, at the behest of Spirit — essential, indiscernible — much 
as the sculptor's hand that shapes the clay, obeys the sculp- 
tor's mind ; — only to grander purposes. And so we see with 
earthly eyes the earthly substance, but with clairvoyant eyes 
(not supernatural) the soul itself moving in god-like grace. 

We speak of aural atmosphere, odylic force, and luminant 
effluence! Are they not all as one? Not soul; — perhaps its 



Preparation 239 

wraith, less bright yet visible; — some shining over-dress, 
woven of brain and body, where Mind — immortal weaver — ■ 
stands directing all. Something very like the veil that 
Moses wore when Israel dared not look. Is not this outer 
radiance the spirit-body's doffing robe, worn in the tiring- 
room before the rich attire comes in for first appearance — 
splendid, refulgent — while the audience waits? 

Now, as the mortal waste attending age goes on, and 
brain-cells one by one forego electric work, do not those 
weaving threads attenuate? Not to be wholly done away 
with when the death ensues (for they are partly spun of 
Psychic stuff), are they not sure to cling awhile and float 
between our eyes and each dear face we long to see once 
more? I think so. Change is ever gradual from mortal 
birth to death. Why not from mortal death and spirit- 
birth to higher states where veils are dropped away ? 

My mother, Nathan Haines and Henry Kendall came to 
me, as I have said, within three days after the final sleep. 
All had the look of age before they passed, — all had it after- 
ward, though fined and vivified. Three days in spirit-life 
are not enough it seems for change of vestiture. But, oh, 
to see them now! 

My Margaret's brother, Gordon — faithfulest of friends! 
— was more than eighty years of age before he crossed the 
great divide. Long out of sight and hearing, I had not 
learned that he was gone, when three years after that, I saw 
him coming, almost with a rush as might a happy boy. So 
holding out his hand (I being plunged that hour in deep 
distress), he cried: " How are you? " with an audible voice! 
— so absolutely Gordon's dear and cordial self, he could not 
be mistaken for another. Yet he was ruddy, blithe and 
young of face as any man of thirty — brimming with human 
life and prone to human laughter. 

Suppose that I had seen him three years earlier — with- 
drawn indeed from flesh, but veiled as I have said; trust 
me, he had not seemed so charged with all the elements 
that make alive. 

And yet I had a friend — pardon! — I have a friend, loved 
then and now unspeakably — who came almost at once, in 
singular beauty. Still she lacked This was the way of it. 



240 A Psychic Autobiography 

For half her earthly life — passing at fifty years — she bore 
that morphine-cross, bound on against her will by one she 
loved (physician, husband, woefully misled) and by the 
time he passed away, the cords had cut so deep the very 
flesh had overgrown them — there was no escape. She 
strained against them to the uttermost, yielded, and struggled 
once again — almost had torn them out when Azreal touched 
her; — she was free indeed. Then all my heart rejoiced! 
But oh, the mortal waste! Youth, beauty, culture, intellect, 
poetic fervor, sweet vivacity and social dignity — so crucified ! 
And oh, the place of skulls! 

After the funeral, being very tired, I dropped upon my 
couch and closed my eyes. There was no time for sleep! 

I saw a spirit enter, pass before me swiftly, turn and pass 
again and so recede. First I saw that she was clad in silver, 
that she wore a silver crown whose upward points were 
shaped like laurel-leaves; and round her, as she moved, there 
waved a faintly visible silver veil. And next I saw Au- 
gusta's very self — changed back to loveliness, but not, as 
yet, made radiant like one in rosy youth. I did not think 
of her (and that seems strange), until she passed the second 
time and faced me, waving recognition. She had but this to 
say, and said it humbly as in self confession: "Not yet 
worthy of the gold! " No doubt she wears it now. 

Freddie, a babe of two, had seen me but a day and night 
before his glad escape; and being made to know that I was 
" Auntie," had let his great eyes follow me about and laid 
his head upon my breast in absolute trust. After the burial, 
when I would have slept, someone took up the child and 
set him down before me, saying: " Look at your Auntie! " 

Then once again his great eyes met my own. The waste 
those four sick months had wrought had left no visible trace. 
A little pale he was, as one just waked from sleep in cooling 
shade; but rounded cheek and frownless brow, and lips that 
seemed about to smile, all told of sweet release from suffer- 
ing. It seemed as though some soft magnetic touch had 
charged the babe with vigor, so that he had wakened, 
reached out hands, and been forever comforted. And yet, 
I think that very night he must have sought his mother'9 



Preparation 241 

knee and clasped her round and gone to sleep again, to draw 
from her what even angels could not all supply. 

Twice only I have seen my father — once a year or so 
before my mother left (he told me she was soon to go), 
and once when she was gone; but how he looked, I'll let my 
spirit-guardian tell. Before I fairly walked again, after the 
sickness I have told you of, this friend most kindly said : " I 
wish to make you happier by telling how your mother 
learned that she had entered life." 

" She woke from that deep sleep in which she passed, 
and saw your father looking down upon her tenderly. She 
mused, not being wholly conscious: 'Henry looks just as 
young as on the day I married him.' Soon it began to seem 
that many years had passed since then ; and wondering but 
not yet comprehending, still she mused : ' Why, Henry looks 
as young as on the day I married him ! ' The wonder grew : 
' Why Henry looks as young ! ' — and then she rose up sud- 
denly, and understood." 

I also saw him young, though not so blest as she, and far 
away from Heaven. 

Now, I suppose that when we enter spirit-life, each one 
is made to understand, according to his need. My oldest 
sister — wonderful for daily sacrifice — awoke, so I was told, 
upon a bed of flowers. My brother William, nearly fifty 
years a joyful Methodist, who uttered praises to his dying 
hour, soon afterward came back and said to me: " It is all 
glory! glory!" I asked: "And have you seen Permelia? " 
" Yes, but not at first. I saw the glory — nothing but the 
glory ! " 

Something like this the one who came to tell me " God is 
Laiv" revealed to me thereafter. He was first aware of 
light — soft, white, ineffable. Knowing, by remembrance of 
a dying hour, that he was in " the spirit," he moved on, 
well content, thinking: " If there were nothing here but 
light, that would suffice for happiness." Then, looking 
down, he saw that he was walking on the grass, and felt 
an added thrill of joy: "Green grass and sunshine! — who 
could ask for more ? Do I deserve so much ? " And then 
a lovely child came toward him, reaching out her arms. At 
first he did not know that he had ever seen her, but looking 



242 A Psychic Autobiography 

closer he discerned the face of one whom he had loved. 
With that she smiled and let him see that she was fully 
grown, though for his recognition she had made herself 
appear as much a child as when she left the earth. Sun- 
shine, green grass and one to meet him — even so the eternal 
years of God began. 

Dr. Philip Doddridge, whose books, men say " next to 
the Bible lead to godliness," whose hymns the people love 
(though not so charged with sweetness as those of William 
Cowper, Charles Wesley and the immortal Isaac Watts), 
tells in his diary that it seemed he also went to Heaven. 
He dreamed (I write from recollection) that an angel came 
and said : " Come, let me show you what awaits the Blest." 

This angel led him to a spacious court near to a gate. 
Here all was beauty, light and harmony; while, from afar, 
came in rejoicing multitudes — cleansed after judgment — full 
of such delight as holy souls on earth are prone to hope for, 
to imagine, greatly to desire, but not to realize. 

Now when the angel came again, he asked : " And are you 
satisfied ? Is this what you have thought of Heaven ? " The 
dreamer answered : " No ! For it is written : ' Eye hath 
not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart 
of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that 
love Him.' But nothing here is past my own imagination. 
Heaven must be more than this." 

Thereat the angel smiled and led him to the gate and 
opened it and drew him in beyond. When they returned 
the dreamer brought no memory back, except a swooning 
sense of things unutterable. 

It well may seem that those who visit us have not yet 
passed the Court. But who shall say the gate that lets the 
white elect go in, will not unclose at any touch of theirs to 
let them come again, — not for revealments, but to aid in 
God's redemptive work? Did not the Christ come back? 

I have but one thing more to tell you after this manner, 
for if the veil be lifted, by but a millimeter's breadth, spirits 
must do the lifting. Otherwise we wait and ponder, staring 
at the blank. 

But first there is a small, importunate self to speak of, 
not by any means because of merit, but from necessity. 



Preparation 243 

Psychic experiences, as I have said, are like to flowers, whose 
roots are deep in earth. Now, in transplanting them, you 
cannot shake away the soil. Forgive! I speak of clay and 
sun and shower only because I must. Without all these 
there would have been no flowers. 

My story led you, lately, to the Compressed Air-Cure, 
where I had once been saved from failure of the heart; and 
now, after excessive use of strength, I needed saving — well, 
from the whole of me! I may as well observe that fully 
eighteen months I stood upon the edge of things and buffeted 
the winds that would have blown me over. 

While in Chicago, near to death, I had been told by one 
not in the flesh, that I might have to live for many years; 
and I had answered: " Since I am called to live, I'll want 
to live." And this strong word had followed : " It shall be 
made worth your while ! " 

Was there, in truth, a work for me to do? Where? 
When? — I would not look nor ask. This one enormous 
work of keeping me alive was all the mountain I could think 
of climbing. Verily, I did not climb alone. 

So several weeks after my mother's passing, early in No- 
vember, 1870, I was there in Buffalo, once more — trimming 
up some hygienic books for print, sending scraps to fill " The 
Bright Side" (leaning on the child) — and privileged to use 
its utmost space, so far as in me lay, for coining cash. Good 
Mr. Alden gave me many an alias from necessity ; but stories 
bore my name and seemed acceptable. By his advice, in 
time, " The Interior " turned its juvenile department over 
to be filled by me; also " The Little Corporal!' let me in. 
Even in two months I had paid my money-debts in full and 
still had something left. Just then the Cure, not being prop- 
erly sustained, was closed. This seemed calamitous. 

And so the New Year found me once again with my 
" Progressive Friends." But since I would not, could not 
go a-visiting, I hid myself in Mrs. Hawley's far-off, upper 
chamber, and wrote and wrote that I might earn the where- 
withal to go to Clifton Springs and pay for further air- 
baths. Not having sail enough to catch a favoring wind, I 
made all haste to get my skiff to shore by tugging at the 
oars. 



244 A Psychic Autobiography 

The fund accumulated slowly. Mr. Alden wrote that he 
had offered fifty gold dollars as a prize for the best young 
folks' story. He was not to be the judge, and therefore 
thought it right that / should try among the rest, although 
accounted editor. He urged me: " Send a story to the 
judges under a pseudonym." Now, fifty dollars gold (there 
being a premium) would speed me on at once. But when 
I tried to bring my thoughts to bear, they failed me utterly. 
I had a vacuous brain ; I stood and sharpened pencils, blank 
of mind. Just then a spirit spoke out with as much effect 
as though the voice were audible to sense : " Write about 
Mattie's cloak." 

At once two lines from Drake's inimitable " Culprit Fay " 
flashed into memory: 

" 'T was tied with threads of dawning gold, 
And buttoned with a sparkling star." 



— " Sang Mattie's mother " — on I went, and in a minute 
had my theme in hand. So in two days, I sent away my 
" Fairy Arrows " — afterward a booklet largely circulated 
among the little folk — under my pseudonym of " Anna Man- 
ley." Was it not well done — the helping me to earn that 
golden prize? Let us hope that no one needed it so much 
as I. 

One night my friends requested me to join a " circle." I 
think each felt the " moving of the spirit; " but speech was 
not for me. Encumbering thoughts must first be shifted off 
before you climb the smallest Psychic height. I dropped 
them for the hour and set my feet beside the mountain 
cedars, just above the clouds (that is, by simile!) So I had 
visions. 

First I saw myself .... Not as a mere reflection in a 
mirror, but as an actual woman, frail and pallid, motionless, 
erect. And then I saw descend and rest upon my head a 
veritable landscape — like a lengthened island, — green with 
plants and trees. Within my soul, I said: "That typifies 
the burden I must bear — the work I have been promised. 
Spirits, it seems you ask too much. I shall be crushed." I 



Preparation 245 

trembled; yet I said (nor felt a fear): "Even so, I will 
accept the work." 

But then I saw a curious thing! Strong silver cables, 
thick as those wires that run beneath the sea, looped under 
either end; and when I looked above, strong hands were 
grasping them — white hands, set close together, far as I 
could see. The island, so sustained, was resting on my 
head, but still I stood erect. And so the vision passed. 

Straightway I saw my father — first descending, then 
pausing but a little way above and looking on me most 
paternally. When I had known him as a little girl, the 
blueness of his eyes, the whiteness of his temples, the vivid 
rose of temperance on either cheek, had made him look like 
this, albeit not so young. Yet he was altogether as a man 
might be, if he could carry perfect youth on through a cen- 
tury nor miss one deep experience. And then his spirit 
spoke to mine — not in the speech that he had learned beyond 
the gate, but in the words we use on earth, who talk of 
common things. 

" Daughter, why do you think so much of dollars? Do 
not be troubled. They are waiting for you. By and bye 
there will be many dollars needed. Trust and they will 
come. Some day there'll be an avalanche of dollars. Do 
your work: — trust, and remember." 

And am I rich today? In dollars, no; in values, yes. 
And when the work came, means to do the work were not 
withheld ; some little avalanches fell — one great one, which 
was turned aside by God's protecting rock to save my work 
and me from burial. And I am old, but suns are shining. 
You, if not myself, I trust, will hear that avalanche. Con- 
cerning all these matters I have yet to write. 

Come, then and let us hasten ! Yet delay a moment ; and, 
after that another moment. First, please observe a pale, 
unhappy woman entering my study — much to my surprise. 
She had avoided me, had been uncivil — others had remarked : 
— a pity too; for Dr. Andrews, who had even now been 
helping two or three, might well have helped her also, as I 
thought. She had three little girls to mother, and she was 
very ill. 

She sat down hopelessly, and said with visible trembling: 



246 A Psychic Autobiography 

" I have come to beg your pardon. Spirits have said I must. 
I've put it off through pride; but now they tell me some 
great good will come to me from you, and I shall have no 
right to take the good, unless I make confession." So she 
told her story. Just a tinge of natural jealousy, or such a 
matter — adverse talk, but nothing worth considering. 

" Come," I said. " You meant no harm at all. There's 
nothing to forgive. Meantime you're sick. Let Dr. An- 
drews tell you what to do. You mustn't die and leave 
those little girls." 

I tell this partly by the way of showing what wide eyes 
a spirit has for observation, what swift hands for succor, 
what abundant interest in little matters, — the coin a woman 
loses, let us say, even the broom that brings the coin to 
light. Moreover, if this mother needed me, I also, at a 
later season, needed her. 

Well, we were both astonished when Dr. Andrews said: 
" Make ready. When my friend goes to that Sanitarium, 
you are going with her." 

"Impossible!" she almost sobbed. "We're very, very 
poor." 

" Oh, you will have the money! You are going! " 

I said to her: "This spirit never told me anything that 
was not true. He has the gift of prophecy. Do just as I 
am doing; make up your dresses, and be quick about it." 
So I wrote for terms to Clifton — room for me and special 
rates for Mrs. Huntington. 

Within a week or such a time, one who had lately bought 
a farm came to the lady's husband : " I find a little corner 
of your land juts into mine. It's of no use to you, and 
since I want to straighten out my line, I'll purchase it and 
pay a hundred dollars." So the bargain closed.* 

Seventeen dollars weekly for myself, and seven for De- 
borah. I, with my fifty dollars (fifty-six), the prize for 
" Fairy Arrows," also with other funds — had all my pencils 
sharp for earning more; — and Deborah had cash enough to 
last three months. So we arranged to go together as the 
spirit said. (How could he know about the strip of land?). 

* See Appendix XIV. 



Preparation 247 

More than we guessed, there was great need for both of us 
to hurry. 

That " one thing more " I promised you, to show how 
life begins a-new, when turbid dreams are past, I dare not 
leave untold. 

Three families and I, as formerly, met at the house of Levi 
Brown for one last service. Lydia and I had spent two days 
in visiting, and she had calmed me, as she always did in some 
magnetic way; so my receptive powers were at their best. It 
seemed that others also were aware of " ministering spirits." 
One of them — Alonzo Hawley — was moved to utterance on 
my account, and cheered me with a symbol, whose far pro- 
phetic meaning time has fully verified. Symbols, in my ex- 
perience (presumably in that of others) enter very largely 
into Psychic life. They are not phantasms, not chimeras; 
they are not realities, nor facts nor prototypes of facts; but 
they are sure predictions. Or rather, let us call them search- 
lights, flashing far ahead and kindling into view those drift- 
ing mysteries we call " events to come." My mother often 
dreamed in symbols, and I to some extent. About these days 
they came as Psychic visions — every normal faculty awake ; — 
and never yet has one of these been proven nought. 

That night our circle had no word from Dr. Andrews, 
although I thought him present. He had begun to " wear 
away" I seemed to understand; for when he came to help 
the sick he did not tell so much of physical ailment as of its 
cause — obscure, remote, within the realm of soul; yet if he 
had not told me just what course to take at Clifton Springs, 
there would have been no help. The obligation he had taken 
on himself was well fulfilled before he passed beyond. This 
time he may have brought another spirit with him ; I am con- 
fident he made it possible for me to see and hear and even 
personate the one who came. 

I saw, by lifting up my " seeing eyes," a spirit — let us say 
a gentleman, clad in a plain, straight coat, holding a heavy 
cane in his left hand, as though to leave the right hand free 
for action. He wore no hat, and yet I did not see his face 
distinctly, it seemed because his head was thrown a little back, 
I being too far down. I saw the person very well — upright 
in carriage, compact of build and dignified of mien — one who 



248 A Psychic Autobiography 

would set his feet down true in walking and keep the straight- 
est line. I waited, all expectancy; and then down fell his 
name: 

" Isaac T. Hopper." 

My thoughts ran here and there to find a clue. I knew 
the name. Had I not heard my father speak of him with 
reverence? What was he? Quaker? Abolitionist? "Un- 
derground " Philanthropist? Some such impression lingered, 
but not a definite fact was held in memory. And all I ever 
learned of him since then, is folded up in one small incident: 
I leave the rest with you. 

In 1875, a friend beside the sea (I living in New York), 
requested me to get a servant for her, out of " The Isaac T. 
Hopper Home for Inebriate Women." I found the institu- 
tion — old, obscure, but still effective. The man whose name 
it bore had builded it, fully endowed it, governed it in life, 
and left it to be owned, maintained and governed by his 
daughter during her life. After her death, I do not know 
what was to happen ; — she was yet alive. I saw her through 
an open door, presiding at a weekly meeting, — a single lady, 
eighty years of age, placid, erect and dignified. Could I 
have touched her hand and whispered in her ear, would I 
have told this story I am writing out for you? Yes, if God 
had given me grace, and she had given me hearing. 

I did not see him after he had told his name. He did not 
move away — he disappeared. A spirit, exercising energy to 
gain control of brain and hold a medium's thoughts, must 
keep himself from sight — or I have found it so. He lets you 
see some other spirit maybe, (he seeing first), but you and 
he are almost one. You think, if not in perfect unison, at 
least in correspondence, so that your lines of thought are 
parallel. It is not meant that they should interfere. In 
opening the gates of speech your hand and his must be upon 
the lever. I know not how to say it otherwise. 

This spirit gave me thoughts and used my vocal instru- 
ments for utterance — producing, not my voice nor that of Dr. 
Andrews, but his own presumably. All his thoughts I well 
remember, — many of his words: I will not claim perfect 
transmission of the latter, phrase by phrase, but nothing shall 
be warped. 



Preparation 24'9 

He said : " Friends, I desire to give you for a lesson, my 
first experience after I knew that I had passed through death. 

" I found myself walking upon a narrow road, cut through 
a mighty forest. The light was very dim. I heard no voice 
of bird nor tread of beast ; but I was not alone. Two walked 
beside me — one on either hand. They did not speak to me 
nor did I turn to them. I walked on, thinking deeply: How 
was this different from earth, save by immensity and lack of 
light? I looked above; tall trees were meeting so that I 
could not see the sky. I thought that I would counsel with 
the two, and turned to speak. I had not seen them go, but 
they were gone. And now I was alone. It seemed that it 
was terrible to be alone; but still I walked communing with 
myself. 

" This is not Heaven, neither is it Hell. It has no name 
I think but Solitude. Since / exist, all other men exist after 
the body's death; but no one meets me. Each perhaps must 
walk alone as I am doing; — will it be forever? 

" To be alone forever! If there be nothing more than 
this, there cannot be a God. Then what remains but infinite 
despair? Is there a God? 

" After a time I issued from the forest. I had reached the 
sea. I saw no shore save that on which I walked, and yet I 
could not stop. I went on through the waters, walking till I 
had passed the surf. Then billows rolled against me — they 
compassed me about, the depths were under me. I toiled, 
and sank and rose and sank (with inward striving no less 
bitter), asking: 'Is there any God?' Under the surges, 
deep within my heart, I found the answer : Faith cried out : 
1 There is a God. O, God, deliver me ! ' 

" I rose ; then far across the sea I saw an angel coming, — 
glorious and swift. He lifted me from out the waters, laid 
me on his breast, and smiled and whispered : ' Son, the trial- 
hour is over. Be at peace.' 

" Oh, he was very strong ; he seemed to soar up some amaz- 
ing height ! But now I heard my name called out, and called 
again, till many voices caught the cry — voices of multitudes. 

" ' Isaac T. Hopper comes ! Isaac T. Hopper comes ! ' I 
heard them all rejoicing: ' He is coming! He has come! ' 



250 A Psychic Autobiography 

And now the angel paused beside a temple : ' Enter, Son, 
he said : ' And be once more alone.' 

" I entered and the door behind me closed. Was this a 
temple? Rather, a spacious picture-gallery. I moved about 
with wonder. What meant these pictures? — who had 
painted them? I looked at one: This was a picture of 
myself, giving a loaf of bread to a pale, hungry woman. I 
looked again: Here was a negro boy, my hand upon his 
head. And here and there and everywhere along the walls 
were pictures of myself bestowing benefits. Faces that I had 
seen, mourners whom I had comforted, toilers whom I had 
aided, children whom I had blessed, widows whom I had 
fed, black men whom I had lifted up; — and always I, my- 
self, pictured in act of doing good. 

" At last, I could endure no more. I cried aloud : ' Un- 
worthy ! I am too unworthy ! Let me pass ! ' I reached an 
open door and so escaped. 

"There were the multitudes! They closed me round; 
they called my name ; they held me fast ; they gave me greet- 
ing. All with one heart and all with one accord, they talked 
of me and loved me. 

" Friends, there are sweet rewards. Good Night." 




XXIII 

ACCEPTANCE 

ATE one evening near the end of February, 
1 87 1, two patients entered Clifton Sani- 
tarium and were assigned to separate rooms. 
One of these — myself, of course, — before 
the breakfast hour went hunting up the 
other; and there lay Deborah, like a with- 
ered lily! I cried out: — " What on earth's 
the matter ! " 

She answered faintly: " I haven't slept an hour. Some 
one has occupied this room, whose mind was black as night. 
The air is full of him, — he must have magnetized the very 
walls! I don't know whether he's alive or dead, but this is 
where he lived. The man was terrible! " 

I hurried off to find a doctor. Fortunately the one I found 
had Psychic understanding. I pleaded: "Don't be preju- 
diced ; she's desperately nervous — Not in the least insane." 

" Oh, she's in the right of it! " said Dr. Prince. " We'll 
move her out at once." 

One year before, a man had come and occupied that room, 
who meant to kill himself. This he had done in time; but 
all that year, save for the last few days, he chiefly sat alone 
and brooded over thoughts of death. How should he do the 
thing ? and where ? and when ? and what would happen after- 
ward? He kept a diary, and every night, before retiring, 
wrote therein his dreadful meditations. Finally, he went 
behind the house and shot himself. And so his room was 
vacant. Deborah was the next. 

It seems I did not go too far that time I wrote : " If we 
send out our radium-emanations — little projectiles that bom- 
bard the very walls about us, they may recoil and yet again 
recoil, bombarding all who come where we have been." Nor, 
when I grew repetitive, declaring once again : " We are en- 

251 



252 A Psychic Autobiography 

dowing molecules this very minute with the souls of us." 
" We produce a force in them which they continually dis- 
charge through times and times and half-times; who can tell 
when all that borrowed energy will be expended ? " Remem- 
ber also, how a shard of brick, concerning which I had no 
knowledge, became, to Psychometric sense, a thing of horror. 
More than a hundred years ago, implacable cruelty, frantic 
resistance, immitigable despair had registered themselves in 
every atom, — so confronting me till I could bear no more. 

Come, let us all be good! 

And now I wonder whether dead, black worlds, colliding 
— " the heavens rolled together as a scroll," " mountains and 
islands moved from out their places " — will not fuse and burn 
and dissipate and re-unite, all fined and purified before the 
sight of God ; with nothing left for Psychometric eyes to see, 
or souls to grieve about. 

From re-constructed planets to re-constructed bodies — 
that's not so very far. Our Dr. Prince declared I must not 
even imagine that I could write — and live. I wrote — how 
otherwise? My spirit-guardian had said: "Make haste! 
There is a new condition, too obscure to be detected by a com- 
mon doctor, but sure to culminate in death save for a single 
remedy. Whatever may ensue, see that you take the air- 
baths." This I did, in spite of protest, walking in with 
others each alternate day and being drawn away in sick chair 
two hours later — helpless as a babe. Wholly obedient was I 
— to Dr. Jonathan Andrews! 

And so about the first of May this dear physician came and 
said : speaking through me, after his usual manner : " The 
danger I have told you of is over. You are turning back to 
life. But three weeks more and you will realize that you are 
certain to be saved. Then I shall come and say, ' Farewell.' 
My friend, I am going away from earth and its vicinity. We 
hear of wonderful conditions on the planet Mars. Many 
spirits have been there and have returned to tell us. We 
have formed a company to visit Mars and be instructed, be- 
fore we pass to other worlds — also inhabited. You will not 
know of me after I go, until you, too, shall leave the earth; 
but I shall know of you." 

This was six years before Schiaparelli saw those complex, 



Acceptance 253 

geometric lines on Mars, that could but signify intelligence. 
Professor Percival Lowell was sixteen years of age. One 
year before that great discovery, he was a graduate of Har- 
vard ; and now, at fifty-three, he looms before our lifted eyes 
— the one astronomer whose deep researches give us cause to 
think and hope and ardently believe that people dwell on 
Mars. And, by the way, were not my Psychometric vision 
dimmed with age, I'd borrow one of those hundred thousand 
photographs and maybe see a little for myself — not through a 
telescope ! 

When Dr. Andrews came at the appointed time he said: 
"I go ; but you will not be left alone. Another guardian 
comes. Since you are chosen for a special work, there will be 
many spirits ready to give you aid. When one shall come 
and speak through you as I am speaking now, saying : ' My 
name was Theodore Parker,' you may understand that you 
have touched your work. Promise me that you will never 
lose your faith." 

" 1 promise you that I will never lose my faith." 

Therewith he said : " Farewell." 

Now, since that day I have not read diseases through 
Psychic eyes, nor proffered remedies by inspiration or in 
Psychic trance, nor yet exhibited, in Psychic trance, the man- 
ner, gestures, voice or personality of Dr. Jonathan Andrews. 
He found me on the road to mortal death. He led me from 
the " vale of Achor " through the " door of hope," to pluck 
the very hearts of things from out the good, green earth. I 
live thereon because of him. God speed him on from world 
to world, from sun to sun, from " companies " of happy 
spirit-friends to spirit-multitudes and archangelic hosts, whose 
"Alleluias!" — as "the voice of many waters" — all shall 
hear at last. 

No less through many years, as I would have you see and 
understand, discarnate souls, always with my consent, have 
on occasion, led me where they would. 

West of the Sanitarium at Clifton Springs there used to be 
a pleasant wood; and there, in May, were flowers — spring 
beauties, wind-flowers, violets a-plenty. Thither I went one 
day and, being moved in heart, was passionate in prayer: 
"Show me my work! Master, I want my work!" 



254 A Psychic Autobiography 

After an hour of this, perhaps, the answer came : " // 
shall be shown to you this Summer." So I was well content. 

Before this time our Dr. Henry Foster sent me a kindly 
message : " No more bills for you." I went to him in hope 
of compromise, for it had pleased me from the first to say: 
"A worker must not be a beggar. If I am truly chosen, I 
shall be sustained and not humiliated." " This is your home 
for twenty years," said Dr. Foster (who had some memory 
of me — a patient twelve years earlier). " But no," I said. 
" I'll only take the air-baths as a gift. I've just engaged a 
room outside." So it was settled. 

Now, on the rise of ground we called a hill, Mrs. Fran- 
cisco had a desolate front yard, and on account of editorial 
favors, / had a lot of seeds. In those days there was dearth 
of flowers at Clifton. I planned for many floral gifts to 
invalids, and planted all my mother's favorites in memory of 
her. 

You will have seen that I am not exactly " Patience on a 
monument " ; and when I found the made-up soil was poor 
and plants were slow to start, I fretted inwardly. Meantime 
a drouth had come. Through sixty days we had no rain. 
My work-boy taxed the cistern, taxed the well, till both went 
dry, then went about to beg for water, very scantly given. 
Half one blazing week we lived without the dew. Impa- 
tience got within the bones of me. 

You notice that I have a clumsy pen at prose : What hap- 
pened I have told in verse without embellishment. Who 
could embellish light ? So from the poem " Mother " let 
me clip these stanzas, written out of a daughter's heart for 
her and me — and you. 

XII. 

Another noon my plants must die, 
Half blind with looking for the mist, 

Through sunset fires that scorched the brain, 
I sought my couch with many a sigh, 
Faithless as any atheist: 

" It will not, will not, will not rain ! " 
I sobbed: But weeping, dropped asleep, 
Or sank in tranced silence deep. 



Acceptance 255 

XIII. 

I say not Love the dream must keep 
As verity; nor, idly fond, 

Would sacred truth with falsehood leaven ; 
But sleepers walk where athletes creep 
And what may break the during bond, 
That brings the mother out of Heaven — 
To prove, and evermore make good, 
The tenderness of motherhood. 

XIV. 

And lo, within my sight she stood ! 
She gravely gazed, she dimly smiled; 
Had well rebuked, — but all her heart, 
As never heart of mortal could, 
Within her melting for her child, 
Seemed welling up to take my part, 
Excuse the fault, the merit claim; 
She might not praise, she would not blame. 

XV. 

But nearer, nearer while she came, 
She brought upon her open palms, 
An earth-bound root that angel-lore 
Had surely named some hallowed name 
Beneath inviolable calms, — ■ 

So white the single flower it bore ! 
And, " Set the plant," she uttered low, 
"Among your other plants to grow." 

XVI. 

took the glistening green and snow! 
" Mother, I thank you," then I said : 
" I never saw a bloom so pure. 
But tell me if the name you know." 
Her eyes in mine their sweetness shed ; 
Soft was her voice as bells that lure, 
From far, the wandering soul to prayer ; 
" The Flower of Patience! Give it care." 



256 A Psychic Autobiography 

XVII. 

Between us swam the dizzying air, — 

I reached my arms, I lost the sight; 

Within my ear the music failed. 
First darkness; then a scarlet glare; 

Burst the long thunder through the night, 
Peal hurled on peal ; the wild winds wailed, 
As though some Heavenly sea to drain, 
Came down the rain! Came down the rain! 

Ah, Mother knew that faith and readiness to serve were 
not enough ! That which I lacked she gave ; or otherwise the 
mountainous obstacles, the strong rebuffs, the weary waiting- 
times, the plunderous attacks, had never been out-lived. Her 
plant has blossomed long. 



When William Collins found himself possessed, quite sud- 
denly, of rather ample means, he presently removed from 
Buffalo to Rochester and made investments somewhat hastily. 
Before affairs were well adjusted, I think in 1856, he passed 
away, leaving his widow sole executor. With other prop- 
erties, he had acquired a thousand acres lying within the 
" Tonawanda Reservation," — a strip of land extending East- 
ward from Niagara River, fifty miles or so, and slow of set- 
tlement because of tamarack swamps. 

About a decade later, Mrs. Collins — a strong-willed lady 
of distinguished character and quite commanding presence — 
needing to get some real-estate cleared from incumbrances — 
proposed to sell this tract, which seemed to be of little value. 
Armed with a note of introduction, she went to Jonathan 
Watson — called just then " The Oil King." Before she had 
disclosed her business, Mr. Watson's lovely wife came in, 
was introduced, excused herself at once and turned to leave. 
She turned again before the door was reached — eyes closed in 
Psychic trance — and said : " I see your husband standing 
close beside your chair. He says : ' Don't sell the land ! 
It's very valuable. Have it investigated. There are healing 
waters beneath of singular virtue. Spirits want them 



Acceptance 257 

brought to light, and used to help the sick and benefit the 
world. There are other values, chiefly oil and minerals, but 
they will never be discovered till spirits have their wish. 
Don't sell the land! " 

Mrs. Watson — Libbie Lowe — at fourteen years of age, be- 
gan to be an " inspirational speaker " — most attractive then, 
and always, among " Progressive Friends " or Spiritualists. 
I, who have seen her, heard her, even dined with her, pro- 
nounce her wholly to be honored. No one could point to her 
and say: " Behold a charlatan! " 



Down fell the blessed rain! And so I picked my flowers 
at Clifton, carried them about among the sick, wrote little 
stories, bathed in air and basked in sunshine, hardly noting 
that the summer days had drifted into August — that final 
month when, out of darkness, I must lift the hand and 
" touch " my very work. Pansies, Nasturtiums, and the like, 
absorbed me. Memory was quite submerged. 

Some early day that month, there came a spirit-message : — ■ 
You've heard the wires along the telegraph lines and know 
the ring of them, what time the wind is blowing? And did 
you ever doubt your ears? — That is the way with spirit- 
messages. 

" Write to your cousin Julie Beach at Albion, and say that 
you will be with her on Saturday afternoon." 

Delightful ! Cousin Gilbert's widow was a poet — a truer 
one than I, though little known. I loved her well. The 
thought of seeing her was most inspiring. I took the pen — 
and paused: " Spirits, you know, as well as I, that all this 
coming winter, I must be a patient in the Sanitarium. I 
cannot bear exposure to the cold. You know that I must 
earn the needed money in advance. Now, if I go to Albion, 
there's a week for visiting, a week for broken health, a serial 
story cast aside, and nothing added to the little fund I have; 
much money spent, and only pleasure realized. No, I must 
stay at home." 

Next morning in a sort of whirl, I caught my pen and 
wrote: "Dear Cousin Julie: You may expect me Satur- 



258 A Psychic Autobiography 

day afternoon ; " and all within three minutes I saw my letter 
drop into the bag, last thing of all. The carrier started off 
— I started after: " I must get it back! " and on a sudden 
realized that this was more than simple impulse. What did 
the spirits want? 

I said to Julie: " Dear, I have a mission. I've got to 
stay till I discover it." With that we laughed together. 

Next day my cousin Lafa Beach, whom I had never seen, 
came up from Rochester ; and, two days after that, came Mrs. 
Collins — lost to sight and knowledge since 1863. She said: 
" I chanced to meet your cousin Lafa Beach this morning. 
He told me you were here. I have come up purposely to see 
you. I have a cabin-home in Barre, eight miles out from 
Albion ; and here's my carriage at the door to take you there. 
In fact I own some mineral springs and hope to have a Cure. 
Come out and see." 

"Impossible!" I cried; then stopped and broke off sud- 
denly: " Why, that is what I've come for! " 

And God had led me by a cobweb thread. 

That evening Mrs. Collins told me this: She had obeyed 
her spirit-husband, speaking through Libbie Lowe; had kept 
her tract of land, disposed of other holdings and bought six 
hundred acres more ! (Behold the faith of her!) Not hav- 
ing funds, she had arranged with Jeremiah Eighmie (a man 
of three-score years, at least), a sort of partnership — just on 
what terms she thought not best to say, or so it seemed. He 
was a gentleman of means and leisure, living in Roselle, New 
Jersey ; — like herself an ardent Spiritualist. Both of them — ■ 
not thinking they were mediums themselves, consulted with 
the best they knew. All these agreed that oil and minerals 
might be found, after sufficient perseverance. 

One result had been attained, as prophesied by Mrs. Wat- 
son. There were two abundant springs of mineral water. 
One of them was truly wonderful it seemed. Just pump for 
twenty minutes on a pocket-knife and it became a magnet, 
strong enough to hold a nail suspended, — I forget how long! 

So, for two years, the country people round-about had 
drunk the Yuh Heh waters (Indian name for life) and had 
dyspepsia cured and heart-complaint and rheumatism and 
scrofulous swellings and other little troubles. Therefore 



"Acceptance 250 

Mr. Eighmie (" Hand of Providence," said Mary Collins), 
had built a Cure — but what to do with it or how to get it 
started right, nobody seemed to know, and spirits hadn't told. 

Mrs. Collins said: " I think the help will come through 
you." Far from agreeing fully, I added to my diary that 
night: " She tells the biggest stories! Seems to depend on 
mediums and now depends on me. That's not the proper 
way to manage business." 

To tell the simple truth I had but little faith in mineral 
waters. / believed in blazing suns and blowing winds and 
double atmospheres and Graham-water gems and grape-juice, 
you remember. Still there was Libbie Lowe; something I 
must believe! 

So the next morning we sat down together, not holding 
hands in manner of a circle; never again, so far as I remem- 
ber, did I depend on borrowed magnetism! Some one came 
and spoke in business fashion, saying: " Get your medical 
indorsement first. Take a sample of the water down to Dr. 
Foster. He will believe in it, and order it for patients. 
That will be of use. He will do more than that even finan- 
cially, but he is not the one whom we have chosen to carry 
out our purposes. That one will not be known until the 
time is ripe." 

Not for an instant did I think or dream that I might be 
the one. 

Mrs. Collins brought to me that morning a bit of rock 
taken from near the surface of the second well, where work 
was going on in search of oil. The depth already reached 
was sixteen hundred feet, and nothing had been found except 
another mineral spring, not specially magnetic and having 
coarser qualities than had the Yuh Heh water. " I think 
you must be Psychometric. Won't you test this specimen 
and see what lies below? " (So pleaded Mrs. Collins.) 

Professor Denton, so I had been told, had found one ob- 
stacle to scientific application of the faculty he named Psy- 
chometry. Neither his wife nor sister — wonderfully accu- 
rate in many ways — could measure distances. In looking 
downward, they, and others he had found, who had the sight, 
could note the different strata all in order but could not state 
their relative depth. I think the fault was in the natural 



260 A Psychic Autobiography 

aptitude for measurement. It happens that I have this one 
mechanical gift in marked degree, but Psychometrically had 
never put the talent to an absolute test. Now in this case, 
I followed where the drill had been and so described each 
stratum as I passed along: " This silvery looking streak is 
six feet thick; this darker one is twenty feet: " I ended say- 
ing: " Here the drill has stopped. I cannot see an inch be- 
low. I get the sense of oil far down; I cannot go in search 
of it." 

Mrs. Collins brought me bottles, each containing drillings 
numbered in order of the finding. All of these I recognized 
at once and all were labeled : " six feet " ; " twenty feet " — 
or what the depth had been. They proved me right so far 
as I had stated. Others might see far more than I, just as 
the Dentons did, yet lack a little this discriminating power. 
Only a few, I think, out of a multitude, have proved them- 
selves safe guides in digging wells. 

I had but little chance to rest; having been brought there 
for a definite purpose that must be fulfilled. And so, that 
afternoon, another spirit came. I remember how the mood 
fell on me; how the outer world went drifting out of mind, 
the while I had a sense of peace and harmony and very gentle 
influence — though firm and strong. It followed that we had 
a sermon full of priestly benediction. I know not how it 
was with Mrs. Collins; as for me my heart was melting in 
me. It seemed that I was called anew to sacrifice, to serve, 
to render all and suffer all, if so the Master willed. When 
this was ended : " Tell us who you are," said Mrs. Collins. 
" My name," he said was " Theodore Parker." And then 
I understood that I had " touched " my work. 

Mrs. Collins, always obedient to what she thought was 
spiritual counsel, went, as my guest, to Clifton, was intro- 
duced by me to Dr. Foster, who instantly proposed to test 
the waters thoroughly, and gave her ample orders. This 
cheered her greatly : " You will come again," she urged. 
" Why, no ! " I answered her. " I went because I had been 
told to go. So far as I can see there's nothing more for me 
to do ; and I must write again with all my might, to pay for 
losing time as well as strength." " Not so," a spirit said, 



Acceptance 261 

speaking aloud through me ; " We have more work for her 
to do. Expect her in about three weeks." 

In ample time another message came : " Write to Mrs. 
Collins to meet you Wednesday afternoon at Albion." So I 
made bold to call on Dr. Foster : " Have you any word to 
send? " " Why, yes," he said! " the gentleman she spoke of, 
who has furnished means, is not, I judge, a suitable man to 
take in charge a healing work, like this. Tell her if she can 
honorably disengage herself from partnership, I can advise 
her better what to do; and I can be of further use, no doubt." 

While we were riding out from Albion to Barre, Mrs. 
Collins talked of Mr. Eighmie gratefully and spoke of his 
ability in finding mines, but said that he was slow to appre- 
hend the needs of general business. She felt that he was 
not the one to have the management of Yuh Heh Springs, 
and thought him indisposed to furnish funds for launching 
out successfully. Still he had his right of partial ownership 
which could not be ignored. 

Perhaps through sympathy, inducing thought-transference, 
it chanced I saw him in a Psychic manner, and told her so 
at once. I thought his features slightly Jewish — a racial 
likeness much accentuated by a patriarchal beard. Upon ar- 
riving she got me all her photographs, thinking that his 
would be among the rest. Not finding it, I seized upon a 
lady's picture : " This looks almost exactly like him only for 
the beard." She answered: "That's his daughter, Mrs. 
Carpenter; they're very much alike." 

Next morning Mrs. Collins, rather vacantly inquired of 
me — who couldn't know of course : " Who are those men 
outside in conversation ? " Looking out, I answered : " One 
of them is Mr. Eighmie." 

Mrs. Collins introduced him to me, relating this about 
the seeing; on which he said: "Look at me very closely. 
Did you see me exactly as I am? " " Why no! I saw you 
looking ten years younger." He had a subtle mind : After 
a little thought he gave his own interpretation : " That sig- 
nifies that I shall prove to be a better man than other people 
think me ; better than I have thought myself to be." 

After a talk with Mrs. Collins, by themselves, he came 



262 A Psychic Autobiography 

and talked to me — she being present: " I suppose you know 
what our Agreements are ? " 

" She says you have a sort of partnership. I haven't 
learned the terms." 

" I didn't wish to pre-possess her mind," said Mrs. Col- 
lins. " I knew her long ago. It always seemed to me she 
was an excellent medium; and now I must believe that 
spirits sent her here for some especial purpose. I left it all 
with them." 

" Well, spirits impressed me yesterday, to leave my home 
and come to make a final settlement. And now it seems 
they've sent a medium here to meet me. I suppose they 
know that you and I could never fix it up alone. I'll trust 
their messenger so far as this: If they have anything to say 
through her, I'll hear it; but after that I claim the right to 
do exactly as I please. They want more money very likely ; 
but I'm not going to furnish it, unless I choose." 

He turned to me again : " Now I shall tell, myself, what 
our Agreements are. Mrs. Collins owns this tract of wood 
and swamp; she wanted to investigate the land but hadn't 
means. I had the money but I would not put a dollar into 
it. I lent it on security and hold the mortgages to make it 
good. I'm to have half of what we get by drilling. We 
share and share alike. So I own half the springs, of course; 
and now it seems she wants to manage them alone. That 
isn't fair." 

" Well, speaking as a woman — not as a business woman 
nor as a medium — it seems to me that you're a sort of Shy- 
lock. She is risking all her property and you are risking 
nothing. That is not ' share and share alike ' by any means. 
If you, as well as she, believed that spirits told the truth 
and there were actual values, why not prove your faith by 
works and risk as much as she? Suppose you keep the mort- 
gages, receive the interest, even foreclose them when the 
time expires unless she pays them off. Meantime give up 
the springs to her. That isn't your Agreement, but it's 
fair." 

" Now, look here ! These waters will be celebrated all 
the world around. / shall be celebrated. When people 
talk about the Yuh Heh Springs, they'll say that spirits first 



Acceptance 263 

discovered them and Jeremiah Eighmie put his money in and 
got them. / want my share of credit." 

" That would be wholly fair if you had risked your 
money." 

" I tell you that I never meant to put a dollar into it ! 
But since the spirits brought me here and brought you here 
to meet me, let them tell, through you, exactly what they 
want. I'm not obliged to let them govern me, but let them 
talk. I'll listen anyhow." 

Here was an " underself." But I had yet to learn that 
back of it — not far removed — there reigned a soul as true 
and pure and generous as any I have known. This soul 
demanded guidance. Who was I that I should utter foolish 
words, and render judgment? Let the spirits speak! 

You will have seen that God has blessed me with an ac- 
curate and retentive memory. It is not a drag-net seizing 
all and letting nothing go; but whatsoever Mind has made 
its own, is never quite forgotten. My poems, having cost 
me thought, are still a part of me. And so with Psychic 
visions — sometimes with lengthened Psychic messages; and 
here is one that never has escaped from durance. Mind has 
held it fast. 

We heard a parable. No one forgets a parable entirely. 
Thought for thought, if not quite word for word, this was 
the little story, told to Mr. Eighmie, told to Mrs. Collins, 
and, with intention, told, as well, to me. 

" There was once a king who had immense possessions. 
These included many fertile provinces, though dotted here 
and there with desert places, much in need of water. Two 
of these barren tracts lay very near each other. It chanced 
the king, in journeying to and fro within his kingdom, 
crossed them both. In each he saw a trickling fountain 
sending out a tiny rivulet, soon to be lost among the sands. 
Now where the springs came out and where the rivulets 
ran, were lovely flowers; but all beside was bare." 

" So, having perfect sight, the king looked far below and 
saw two plenteous rivers striving to push their way between 
the rocks, finding no adequate vent. Each of these had 
lifting power; each forced a way through narrow crevices, 



264 A Psychic Autobiography 

and, out of all their flowing waters, sent one thread of silver 
up to make the desert bloom. 

" When, afterward, the king was seated on his throne to 
judge the people, straightway he commanded: 'Let my 
servants go and open wide those crevices. Let them en- 
large the fountains, giving both those rivers room to pass, 
and make my deserts green.' 

" Therefore the willing servants came and brought their 
drills and toiled, as faithful servants will, through many 
weary days. 

" Beneath one spring, there lay the solid granite ! And 
it was hard to pierce. Point by point, slow inch by inch, 
the steel went cutting through to reach the stream below. 
And now but one more blow is needed; Will the waters 
flow? 

" Under the other spring there lay the quick-sand ! Not 
so deep — easy to pierce, but liable to sink and fill the well 
and block the tools anew. Here was much delay through 
need of building walls to shut away the sand. Yet now 
there's but a single blow to strike: And will the waters 
flow? 

" And if they rise from underneath the granite, that bar- 
ren soil above will bloom in beauty, where the children 
walk. And if they rise from underneath the quicksand, that 
desert will be rich with grain and give the children food. 

" If either one, or both, refuse to flow and make the 
deserts rich, then will the waters force their way through 
rifts and secret caves until they reach the under seas and 
lose themselves in salt. But who shall tell the king? " 

There was long silence when the story ended: "Well," 
said Mr. Eighmie (always quick of apprehension), "this is 
evident. Both Mrs. Collins and myself must sacrifice." 
He looked as though the thought delighted him. 

And yet I listened half that Thursday afternoon, not 
uttering a word myself, the while these dissident partners 
strove to reach a point of settlement. 

What was she offering? To get all needed funds from 
other sources, start the Cure, bottle and sell the waters, bear 
the sole responsibility of all and — share and share alike! 



Acceptance 265 

All that but angered him, it seemed. Being appealed to as 
an " undersell " was not quite what he wanted. 

I began to see the force and meaning of the parable — not 
understood at first. Here, firm as very granite, for two 
full years this woman had denied herself the sweets of home, 
the dear companionship of children, the social lift, the means 
of rest and peace in happy neighborhoods, and fixed her lone 
abode next to a swamp, with not a house in sight. And all 
to satisfy her spirit-husband, bring to light those healing 
waters talked about by spirits; — also incidentally, with Mr. 
Eighmie's help, to get their oil and minerals, and " share 
and share alike." Had not this woman sacrificed enough? 
Why should she offer more? You've heard that roots of 
trees will penetrate the metamorphic rocks and pick the 
feldspar out for means of growth? Just so this work had 
fastened on her, rooted in her, made demands of her; and 
it was slow of growth. A hundred years to build an oak, 
five centuries to lift a giant pine and five times five to 
root and rear a Calaveras monarch ! This woman's faith 
was greater far than mine, for I, to some extent, was made to 
see, while she was left to grope. 

So, painfully she groped her way along that day to reach 
a business " settlement ; " till Mr. Eighmie flung himself 
away from conference: — "Come, let the spirits talk!" 

This time we listened to a searching sermon — I cannot 
say from whom; but, when it ended, I, at least, — it seemed 
the others also — had felt the sudden warmth of altar-fires. 
The morning and the evening made the first of days; and 
there were four of them. We hear it took but six to make 
a world. 

Now on the second day — so quick the shifting sands — 
three times this Jeremiah Eighmie said : " We two can 
never settle this alone. We'll listen to the spirits." There- 
fore we heard three sermons more, and each more sweet and 
searching than the last, leaving a longer silence; after which 
we went our separate ways. 

Well, on the third of all these days the sands were slipping 
still. And then the preacher spoke of things both old and 
new, of things that make for loss, and those that make for 
everlasting gain. And I remember how he said to Mr. 



266 A Psychic Autobiography 

Eighmie : " Keep in harmony with all above you ; so do- 
ing, you shall live till you are very old." Not threatening 
him in any wise, but giving him to understand that life en- 
genders life and all its elements are of the spirit — nothing of 
the flesh. 

But after dinner I was left alone; one partner busy in 
the distant kitchen, the other tramping off to supervise the 
drillers, who had just begun to guess that oil was possible. 
So there I sat at ease, as women will, and tranquilized my- 
self with sewing-work. In truth I have a certain art that 
makes for health and sanity. Right in the midst of what 
induces worry — even invites despair, I push distressing 
thoughts away and leave myself a safe, sweet space for 
happy meditation. And so it was this day and hour, or I 
had never known what followed — never told to you what I 
am forced to tell, or leave all records blank. 

Some one drew near and swept my eyelids down so that 
my soul could see. There was a blaze of softened light that 
filled all space around ; and on the lift of land — Southward, 
between the swamp and road — I saw an edifice. It seemed 
an Institution — not a dwelling house — built all of brick, 
and wide, high, and " set four-square to all the winds that 
blow." One said: 

"This is a home for abandoned women, — a House of 
Reform." 

It disappeared, but still the light remained. Then it 
returned but in that instant " fifty years " had passed ; and 
all around it lay a peaceful, prosperous village. First the 
" Home " and after that, so many other homes. 

"As it will be! Promise bodily healing and you may 
save these lost ones!" 

Then first I understood, what afterward was proven, that 
Yuh Heh Springs surpassed all other waters known, in cura- 
tive effects. I rushed away, and in my private room fell 
down upon my knees, crying aloud : " My Master, let me 
be of use. O, give me strength to help ! " 

"It shall be yours to help!" 

Behold at last a work! Behold a chosen and accepted 
servant! So the new life began. 

When it was eventide and still the discontent between the 



Acceptance 267 

two prevailed, there was an instantaneous response to Mr. 
Eighmie's call. This time we had a plain and practical dis- 
course about the Yuh Heh Springs; their singular virtue, 
their abundant flow, their money-making value. Here was 
a means of just enrichment, — let them be used for that. 
But use them also for beneficence. Here let the Charitable 
come and build their many Homes. And one shall be for 
destitute and worthy sick; and one shall be for worn-out 
laborers, who need a time of rest; and one shall be for city 
children, pale inheritors of tainted blood; and one shall be 
for miserable, straying women, wanting to be saved. 

Just here the speaker paused and said to Mr. Eighmie: 
" Something shall -be granted you before all others. We 
have already shown our friend, in vision, a great Reforma- 
tory yet to be, — an Institution for the help of fallen women. 
// you desire, it may be yours to lay the corner-stone; and, 
doing this, your name shall be revered." 

After these talks none of us ever spoke of them. No 
words of mine can tell how deep was their effect, — at least 
on me. 

Still, on the Sabbath morning, Mrs. Collins said to Mr. 
Eighmie: "Come, let us settle something finally. What 
terms do you desire ? " And Mr. Eighmie would not make 
concessions, would not accept concessions! Nothing pleased 
him. I think if she had sacrificed her all, he would have 
spurned the offering. " I want to hear from spirits! " So 
he had ended every conference before, and so he ended this. 

Then for one blessed space of time some " minister of 
grace " addressed us. All earthly thoughts were swept 
away, I think from other minds as well as mine. I seemed 
to breathe a holy atmosphere. I had a consciousness of 
boundless good and inexhaustible mercy. Nothing was said 
of justice; no listener could think of any "wrath to come," 
only of everlasting righteousness and infinite peace. Who- 
ever spoke had been within the inner court and learned that 
Law is Love. 

I rose up when the sermon ended — rose and fled from 
out the " cabin-home " into the sunshine, over the corduroy 
road that led to Yuh Heh Springs; and there, above the 
healing waters, sat me down, full to the lips with blessing. 



268 A Psychic Autobiography 

" Master, here I am! Do with me even as Thou wilt." 
How could I ask for more than mere acceptance? How 
dared I ask for that? 

Yet, then and there, beyond all merit first or last — even 
to the hour of death, was granted me reward. From over- 
head, a hand of perfect whiteness reached below and on my 
forehead wrote four words, for endless benediction: 

" Recreant to no trust." 

Oh, long and difficult and sometimes terrible, has been 
my chosen road; yet to this very day I have not lost my 
faith. 

Sunset was near at hand that Sunday afternoon when 
three of us sat down to hear the final word. Mercy and 
peace and love had been accorded us. The " servants of the 
king " had waited. Here indeed were fountains in the 
desert; underneath were rivers. One more blow to pene- 
trate the granite; one more blow beneath the sand, walled 
back from choking up the shaft: But would the waters 
flow? 

Now one stood up among us, — causing me to stand — and 
used my brain and voice, with my consent, to render judg- 
ment, even as one who had authority. Yet he announced 
himself as would a common mortal, chosen to interpose be- 
tween two disputants, being accounted wise. 

" I shall adjudicate between this woman and this man. 
My name is J. R. Evelyn. I was once a Judge in Liver- 
pool. I am competent in law. 

" Sir: I have read a contract, signed and sealed, which 
gives to you, upon condition, half the oil and half the min- 
erals that may be found within a tract of land to which this 
woman has the right of property. Nothing is said of water. 
You have both inferred and understood that there is mutual 
ownership of Mineral Springs. Sir, not a reputable law- 
court in the world would give you title to a single drop. 

"To whom do they belong? By common law the title 
vests in her; the Springs belong to her exclusively. But is 
not something due in equity to those who first discovered 
them? Neither this woman nor yourself can claim to be 
discoverers. Spirits discovered them. This she believes and 
you believe. Because of such belief upon her part, she 



Acceptance 269 

caused them to be sought for, and, by sacrifice, permitted you 
to find. All that you have spent in bringing them to light 
must be, in time, refunded, with interest and even a little 
usury. What she has sacrificed must be, at last, made good. 
Spirits will see that she is well rewarded. When all has 
been repaid, there should in truth be equal ownership between 
possessors and discoverers. They ' share and share alike.' 
Can you suppose spirits would leave their happy places, sink 
themselves below the common soil and search out healing 
elements, only to foster greed? So let the Springs be used 
for righteous gain. But spirits have an equitable claim. 
They have their holy purposes. Outcasts must be reclaimed ; 
the sick must be restored; the little ones must be regener- 
ated; the fevered, halt and suffering be lifted up. Who 
dare deny our rights? " 

So much I have reported, thought for thought, and almost 
word for word ; since, after all, these were but common 
words and common thoughts, such as will keep afloat in any 
common mind. Further I cannot go, except to say that 
every word which we had heard before, in parable and 
sermon — even in practical discourse — was brought to mind, 
in swift review and sequence. One might have said : " Here 
is a web of gold, and every thread was spun for us before 
this weaver took them up and made them all as one." I 
doubt if I shall ever hear on earth such master eloquence 
again. Lawyer and advocate and judge — with none to say 
him nay! 

There had been a sunset. When I looked I saw that 
night had come. We sat in darkness; no one moved or 
spoke. Till, being made to understand, I said to Mrs. 
Collins : " Will you bring a lamp ? and will you bring pen, 
ink and paper ? " After that my hand was moved to write 
two documents meant to be signed and witnessed. 

[Copied from Jeremiah Eighmie's papers, Jan. 21, 1909, 
by B. F. Carpenter, 65 Orchard St., Summit, New Jersey, — ■ 
he being joint executor with J. C. Eighmie, of that estate — 
including Yuh Heh Springs, whose heirs will " gladly " see 
the script fulfilled.] 

" The well of healing waters first discovered through the 
joint efforts of myself and Mrs. S. A. Collins, upon land 



270 A Psychic Autobiography 

which she is legally entitled to, I freely acknowledge is free 
from all pecuniary claim except such as she may hold before 
she willingly resigns it in favor of the great healing work 
for which it is designed." 

" I hereby promise, on receiving the above signature to the 
above acknowledgment, to resign all my rights to the water 
as soon as Mr. Eighmie is paid for his expenditure in finding 
it and for his labor and expenditure in building and putting 
up a Cure thereby and when I also am remunerated properly. 
I resign then my claim on the healing water as soon as it is 
secured from debt to others and myself. By ' resignation ' 
I mean that the whole proceeds of the water shall be used in 
the service of God and the world." 

Out of my line of vision Jeremiah Eighmie sat, until I 
read the papers out. Then up he rose and came — smiling 
as one who enters Heaven — and sat him down and signed 
his worthy name. 

When Mrs. Collins also signed, he said : " Now this is 
most important. Let the spirit write these papers twice 



Acceptance 271 

again, and we will sign them over — one for each of us. 
So that was done. 

He would have meant no more if he had said : " Now let 
us make three tabernacles": and I, for one, knew that a 
" bright cloud " hung above and overshadowed us. 

Whoever saw that " underself " again ? Not I ; it seems 
not any one. So Jeremiah Eighmie passed away — sane, 
smiling, happy, when his time had come twenty-four years 
later — he being eighty-five. One writes to me : " Great 
numbers have been grateful for his ministrations. Numerous 
and marvelous healings were performed through him. His 
life was like a poem, his face an index of angelic indwell- 
ing." So " Father Eighmie " walks in spirit-paths, and who 
shall call him old? 

As for my share, early in 1873 this Jeremiah Eighmie, 
having at heart the thought of that fore-shown Reformatory, 
put forth his " Hand of Providence " and laid its corner 
stone! Long be his name revered! 

And first of all, honored be Sarah Collins! Who is like 
to her for trust, obedience, granite-like endurance, patience, 
energy, indomitable will? 

Remember, but for her I had not found my work. 



XXIV 



WAYS AND MEANS 




AID Jeremiah Eighmie: " Spirits sent 
you here on my account. I am the better 
for it. I ought to pay your traveling ex- 
penses." 

I laughed : " Not for the world ! They 
sent me here as much on my account as 
yours." So we shook hands and parted; — 
he to send the drillers back to Titusville, until a more con- 
venient time, and I to write for bread. I looked at my de- 
pleted purse, and estimated : " Within two months, there'll 
be cold weather. Then I must go back into the Sanitarium 
and stay five months, at least; but after that I'm safe. So 
there's a lot to earn ! " 

Some spirit interposed : " You need to gather strength 
before your work begins; and rest is necessary. Do not de- 
pend on writing. That will soon be stopped." 

My work! I realized that when it did begin, I'd have 
to stand up like a caryatid — not to sustain entablatures, but 
" floating islands " maybe. Still, I thought of silver cables 
— grasped and held by spirit-hands to keep the weight from 
crushing. So I meditated! 

" Spirits, I cannot undertake that work and yet sustain 
myself. I'll ask for stronger proof. If, when my earnings 
stop, as you predict, I find myself provided for by spirit- 
power, and not as though I were a beggar, I will bear what- 
ever spiritual burden God and you impose. But work 
should have a certain dignity. I have striven so hard for 
independence, I must not be humiliated. See to that and 
you shall have my confidence, my trust, my glad obedience." 
Just so we settled it. 

I am no visionist in daily life. Nothing vague invites 
me. But I had seen a vision that appealed to me most 

272 




^U^I^f^LOi^U &lqWsV1S*<-& 



V 



/ 



^*^<J 



Ways and Means 273 

poignantly. It might be realized. To make it actual was 
beautiful to think about, and terrible to undertake. I would 
not move a step without invincible conviction. I knew, by 
simple common sense, that one might travel all the world 
around, asking for means to build, endow and carry on a 
Home for fallen and repentant women, upon so grand a 
scale, and never gather up enough to build one martyr's 
tomb. I thought of Emma Hardinge, honored and loved 
in England and America, who wore the long years out in 
fruitless supplication. I had no mind to follow after her 
on such a barren road. 

About those days I could not choose but pray. Like 
James Montgomery I felt: 

" The motion of a hidden fire 
That trembles in the breast." 

Whatever else was uppermost in mind, when this same 
fire incited me to ask, all thoughts, all aspirations became 
resolved into one single utterance : " O, make me ready for 
my work! " I spoke of this to none; my secret was already 
shared by three, who dwelt in flesh, and they but little 
guessed how all-compelling it would prove to be, even from 
that day to this. 

Meantime I hunted up a cheaper room, and took the pen 
again. Spite of some idle weeks, there was a little over- 
plus of young folk's matter in Chicago, waiting to be pub- 
lished. Rather freakishly, it seemed, I sent two stories 
otherwhere, each worth perhaps five dollars. To my aston- 
ishment, one editor (Moore, of the "Rural New Yorker") 
sent me twenty dollars in lieu of five — a freak on his part 
also. Even while I read his lovely letter, great Chicago 
burned! My over-plus and all my income-sources blew 
away in smoke. My idle weeks had been no more than 
wasted time, if I had stayed at home and cared for self. 

And now I thought the time had verily come for exercise 
of faith : " If I am chosen, I shall be provided for. I shall 
not be required to earn the money. I shall go back into 
the Sanitarium whenever that is best. I shall not be de- 
pendent on its charities to any great extent. Let spirits 



274 A Psychic Autobiography 

look to that! Meantime, I'll work for Deborah Hunting- 
ton. She needs another course of treatment." 

So I furbished up some bits of knowledge held in memory 
(faithful custodian!) and wrote a lecture on Old British 
Customs, dating back five hundred years or so. Out of a 
coterie of six, we called a " reading class," I chose two 
clergymen — Rawlinson and Dickinson — to intercede for me 
with Dr. Foster: " Please let her read a lecture in the 
chapel at a price, to bring back Mrs. Huntington." " Next 
week," he said, " but tell her not to wait for that; send for 
her friend, at once." 

I thought it well to trust. And yet, to trust, one must 
be lifted up. It seemed to me that I was all one prayer. I 
have known good souls who prayed to spirits. Even that 
may be a sort of exaltation — better than Buddha-worship let 
us say; for grace is often handed down through spirits — if 
we but stand in line. Yet is the Infinite not inaccessible: 
A prayer that recognizes Him, lifts up the one who prays. 
This way we reach those higher atmospheres where they 
abide who have not quite removed themselves from earth, 
but know the way to Heaven. There they abound in faith, 
and shall not we? 

Now, faith is not belief, for that is often wrong, and 
faith is always right. Nothing is prayer, that is not justi- 
fied by faith, — which, in its turn, is justified by inspiration. 
Prayer is not clamor, petulant demand, importunate desire; 
nor mere petition, howsoever earnest; nor sad complaint; 
nor urgent call for pity and relief — unless, indeed, an inward 
pressure come that cannot be resisted. God never urges us 
to pray, unless He means to give. But if we urge our- 
selves; that is another matter. I learned my lesson well in 
childhood. When it is given you to ask, rejoice! And, if 
it be not given, stand and wait — 

" A-tremble for your turn of greeting words." 

Be certain it will come. Suppose God verily chooses to 
reveal Himself through spirits — Moses and Elias, anyone 
who stands beside the open sepulchre and says with happy 
smiles: " Lo, Christ is risen — also Lazarus! " What then? 



Ways and Means 275 

Must you turn back from His rejoicing messengers — whiter 
than whitest wool — because they wear no serge? 

Let me report a thing from Dr. Henry Foster. He had 
his Wednesday evening chapel-meetings; and once he told 
us of an answered prayer. This was the way of it: 

I think in 1858 (the year before I went to Clifton first), 
his health broke down. This was the more alarming because 
his family had known consumption. Drifting in that di- 
rection, he knew, and others knew, that, in default of speedy 
rescue, he must die and leave his work undone. Now, of 
that work he said, long afterward : " I thoroughly believe 
that God had planned this institution long before I lived 
. . . .And so he finally chose me, and others with me, to de- 
velop what you see. My motto has been that of Paul: 
' This one thing I do.' " 

Believing so, even at that early date, he found himself 
brought face to face with death, and under every probability 
that " this one thing " must fail. 

He said, substantially : " I left the Water Cure in care 
of others, and went to California. As it is with all who 
have been greatly over-taxed, no sooner was the strain re- 
lieved than strength began to fail. I found that I was 
sinking steadily. I judged, as a physician, that there was 
little hope. Week by week, I kept on going down ! — down ! 
— down ! 

" I left the coast, and tried the mountains. One after- 
noon I took my gun, and climbed till strength had-- failed. 
Then I sat down upon a stone, and thought the matter over. 
There seemed no possible help. I said : ' It seems God's 
will that I should die! * 

" ' Now pray ! ' I heard the voice, and laid my gun aside. 
Then I knelt down and prayed that I might still be spared 
to carry on my work; and, while I prayed, I saw my chapel 
far away in Clifton Water Cure. I saw it filled with 
patients whom I knew; and they were all upon their knees, 
praying for my recovery. That moment I had perfect faith 
that God would hear and answer. Our prayers went up 
together — theirs and mine. I knew that they prevailed. 
There came to me a marvelous out-pouring of the Spirit. 
I rejoiced with ' joy unspeakable.' God showed me, then 



276 A Psychic Autobiography 

and there, that he had many years in store for me. I knew 
that I should live, and that my work should live long after 
me. 

"When I arose, I thought with wonder: 'This is not 
the usual night for prayer at Clifton. There must have 
been a special meeting called to pray for me.' And then I 
wondered more : ' Why should they call a meeting in the 
afternoon? This is the hour for baths.' Then I remem- 
bered difference of time. So I took out my watch and it 
was four o'clock — but eight o'clock at home. 

" Friends wrote to me and named that very evening, 
giving me the date. They said : ' We called a special 
Meeting in the chapel to pray for your recovery. We prayed 
with faith. We felt that God was with us.' " 

When Henry Foster's eighty years on earth were ended, 
he had left a means for doing good almost unparalleled. 
And now I think there is a temple picture-gallery in Heaven, 
vast and high, whose walls portray himself as benefactor, 
with those he benefited, — for him and them to visit as they 
will; (I entering with the rest). 

" Bring us indubitable proof," Prof, Huxley cries, " that 
God will answer prayer." The proof, great Scientist, is in 
the heart of man, and in his daily life! 

I need just now to write of little happenings too small to 
dwell upon, save for their ultimate effect. Whatever sways 
a life, even as a far-off moon will sway the sea, or as a 
casual vacuum in air will start a hurricane, or any spark 
light up a house-hold fire to keep the babes alive, is worth 
considering. Be very patient; read my trivialities. 

In all my life I had not prayed for dollars; but now I 
wanted more for Mrs. Huntington, — twenty-five, at least. 
I told our "reading class" (all comfortably poor and rea- 
sonably sick) that I had prayed for that amount; that I had 
prayed with faith; that it was coming soon. So I left off 
asking. Never tease! 

Not less, one morning, early, I undertook to reach con- 
clusions for myself. " I cannot ask for money. I have 
enough to pay my way till Tuesday ; then, if no more should 
come, there'd be enough to take me far as Lydia Brown; no 
doubt there'd be some way to reach my sister's farm. There 



Ways and Means 277 

I could stay as long as life should last — six months perhaps, 
or possibly a year. This then should be my epitaph: " Re- 
creant to every Trust! " Lord, let it not be so. 

I fell upon my knees : " Provide for me : Lengthen my 
life. Give me my work. Help me to save the lost. 
Through weakness, pain and strife and anguish, let the 
promise be fulfilled. First make me worthy of my work; 
then give me every burden soul and flesh can bear. Pro- 
vide for me; Now show me what to do! " 

I know Who sent the answer. I did not know the mes- 
senger. " Go back into the Sanitarium." 

" I cannot pay my way." 

" How much will you require? " 

" If I can have but thirty dollars more, I'll trust for all 
the rest." 

" It shall be yours." 

I rose from supplication : " I have one story, sent to 
* Home and Health" and so accepted. That will be five 
dollars. Twenty-five must come from spirits — after they 
have brought the twenty-five for Deborah Huntington." 
Nor did I have a doubt. 

So I sat down to breakfast, perfectly content. Olive 
McCune burst in — ablest of all the doctors, after Dr. Fos- 
ter : " I hurried up to tell you ; Dr. Cullis and his wife, 
who founded the Consumptives' Home in Boston, doing it 
by faith, will tell us all about it in the chapel. Don't be 
late! We meet at half past eight." 

I hadn't been in chapel since my lecture — hard on weak 
lungs and nerves; but now I went, of course. When we 
were breaking up to leave, an elderly and pleasant lady 
whom I had never noticed (one of a thousand patients) came 
and said : " My name is Mrs. Rathbone. I heard your 
lecture, every word of it, though I am hard of hearing. 
Just paying for admission did not seem enough. Some poor, 
sick woman needed help, I understood. May I increase the 
fund ? Were the receipts sufficient ? " 

" Well, I wanted more." 

" Please call on me. I leave tomorrow morning." 

I slipped aside to tell Miss Phillips — leader of our little 
reading class. Everybody knew Miss Phillips; virtually 



278 A Psychic Autobiography 

founder of the library, useful in many ways to Dr. Foster. 
Let me stop to say that she was twenty years confined to bed 
and couch — walking the halls a little on occasion. Not the 
less, some two years after that, as a direct result of taking 
many air-baths, she walked, through sloppy snow, two miles, 
to spend a day with me, did not lie down a moment — then 
walked back, and never fared the worse! 

When I greeted Mrs. Rathbone in her room, she had her 
gift-envelope ready; but first I chose to visit. We talked 
an hour, as women will, for very love of it, and then I took 
her benefaction, kissed her and went away — to tell Miss 
PHllips. " Here's an answered prayer! Twenty-five dol- 
lars all for Deborah Huntington!" Can you imagine just 
how rich I felt? 

Miss Phillips left her couch to say to Mrs. Rathbone: 
" You are greatly honored. God has used you as a means 
of answering prayer." So told the little story. 

" I want to know Miss Jones. It seems she lives by 
faith. Ask her to write to me. Ask her to visit me in 
Albany." 

That night I had a happy dream. It seemed that brother 
Lester came and handed me a bunch of pinks. " These I 
have picked for you," he said, " and there are more of them. 
Come see the root." 

We walked together till I saw the plant, set thick with 
ruby-colored flowers. " These are all for you," said Lester. 

" What do they signify? " 

He answered : " Woman's love." 

One sees heredity in this. Mother and I alike, in sleep, 
were sometimes taught by symbols. Each alike would ask: 
" What does this signify ? " In every case these dreams 
were prophecies. 

Miss Phillips handed me, next day, a sealed envelope. I 
said : " When I shall open this, we'll find what I was 
promised yesterday — twenty-five dollars for myself. Did 
Mrs. Rathbone send it? May I write and thank her?" 

" She wants to hear from you. Here is another gift 
from her; a costly dress that she has never worn but once. 
Being in black, she has no use for it herself." 



Ways and Means 279 

"Oh, me! Accordeon-pleated flounces — half-a-dozen! I'll 
have to rip them off." 

Said Rev. Rawlinson: " In your case, Heaven approves 
of flounces; that is clear." Quaker and Puritan — oh, well! 
I left them on. 

Now, being safely in the Sanitarium, something puzzled 
me. " I owe eight dollars, sixty cents; but have I any right 
to pay my debts out of this little fund, meant for another 
use? Spirits have said they would provide for me. Am I 
to trust or doubt? I said that I would trust; so let me 
keep my word." 

Just a week later I awoke at daylight and caught a 
Psychic message, flitting in, much like a homing dove. Oh, 
nothing very lofty, — only this! 

" Ask for ten dollars this morning to pay your debts." 

What? Was I called upon to pray for money? I got 
down to the level of it! I said: " Dear Master, send ten 
dollars, so I can pay my debts; " and this with absolute faith 
— the " substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things 
not seen." I had the " evidence " that moment, the " sub- 
stance " in an hour. There was a letter waiting for me, 
that had no signature — post-marked Chicago, writing un- 
familiar : 

" Dear Lady: Please accept this little tribute from one 
who appreciates virtue and admires talent." It held ten 
dollars — one dollar, forty cents too much. 

I wrote to Mr. Alden: "Are you responsible for this? 
(Poor fellow, all burned out!) He wrote: " A lady called 
whom I had never seen. She said that she had never met 
you, but had been impressed for several days to send you 
money. She asked if you were in necessity. I told her 
' Yes,' and gave her your address. She would not leave 
her name." 

Twice, after that, this unknown lady sent her " little 
tribute," saying, finally, that she was near to death. Each 
time her letter found me in emergency, and met an instant 
want. Now I suppose that she had climbed some Psychic 
mountain, half-way Heavenward, and caught the sense of 
me far off — or otherwise, a spirit prompted her. Who 
knows ? 



280 A Psychic Autobiography 

One day two gentlemen called together. One Doctor 
or Professor Fish — a guest of William Livingston Browne, 
who lived four miles away from Clifton, — the other, Mr. 
Browne himself. 

The former, a geologist who lectured widely, knew of me, 
and having chanced to learn my whereabouts (I don't know 
how), desired to be acquainted. The other merely came 
through courtesy. 

Some few days later Mr. Browne appeared: " Our 
Shortsville people wish to hear you lecture." He named a 
moderate price, and gave a necessary invitation: Mrs. 
Browne would gladly entertain me. Only to earn a trifle, I 
accepted. That was all the lure. 

O, Deborah Huntington! — pale, proud petitioner for 
needless pardon! When spirits told you some "great good" 
would come to you through me, how would we both have 
wondered to be told what yet would come to me because of 



you 



Once, twice, three times that winter, by kind solicita- 
tion, I was the guest of Mrs. Hattie Browne. Most quiet 
lady, veritable artist — self-supporting, self-effacing wife and 
mother ! To what shall I compare her ? Let us say a still 
deep-shadowed lake within a forest, fed by hidden springs; 
and far off, in the happy meadows, herbs innumerable had 
their share of it. [Would there had been more sun!] 

Her husband — let us wait awhile. I have no doubt far- 
seeing spirits chose him. I justify their choice. 

Our tonic air-bath patients (shut in lighted tanks two 
hours together) grew to be good comrades. Ladies, clergy- 
men and doctors made quite a happiness of getting well. 
Dr. Von Von Rosa (modestly he chose to drop the Vons), 
about that time received a legacy from Germany. He and 
his estimable wife, — not needing it, — thought well to give 
it all away in small instalments, making a lingering luxury 
of kindness. Someway they thought of me. 

Before my little fund was quite expended, Dr. Foster met 
me: "God wants you to live; that's very evident! Dr. Rosa 
wants to pay your treatment for a month. / want to pay for 
it another month ! " — and straightway Mr. Linton sent me 
to a better room. Dear No. 17! I wonder if some later 



Ways and Means 281 

occupant was ever so aware of angel ministrations, as I 
through five full months in No. 17. " Behold the Taber- 
nacle of God is with men." Always I had the sense of un- 
seen friends; I seemed to be at foot of Jacob's ladder; — 
little it mattered if the stone was hard. 

Was I in need of actual earthly gifts? Twelve times 
within six months, means came to me, it seemed by spirit- 
intervention, — in every case foretold, in every case unlooked- 
for otherwise. 

On Christmas Eve I took my diary, and wrote: " I have 
two gifts for Deborah; none for other friends. What do I 
need myself? Some handkerchiefs — a water-proof suit — a 
serviceable dress." This had been the compact: What I 
should actually need would be provided ; so I formulated my 
necessities. You've heard that Spiritualism leads to lunacy. 
I never met a lunatic of my belief — albeit there may be such. 
Pronounce me one, if so it please you. 

Miss Phillips met me at the air-tank, Christmas morning, 
with pocket-handkerchiefs a-plenty; also a rose-pink tie (I 
hope to wear rose pink in Heaven now and then — perhaps 
celestial blue. Why always dress in white?) 

Straightway I floated up the stairs to show my gifts to De- 
borah, who loved me best of any. On the way a telepathic 
message like a meteor shot down — almost with detonation — 
unmistakable ! 

"Ten dollars will be brought to you this morning. Take 
it and buy a water-proof suit." 

Now this I told to Deborah at once, to comfort her; and 
going to my room (a caller being in possession) said: " Miss 
Orr, I promised you should hear my next prophetic message 
before the prophecy should come to pass:" — so told the 
story over. I was so full of it, had you been there, you 
would have heard it also. 

Next minute some one knocked. There stood Miss Shat- 
tuck holding out ten dollars! — Actually laughing — she, who 
suffered morning, noon and night till she had lost the art? 
"My sister-in-law has sent you this," she said and went away 
in haste. Miss Orr stood voicing wonder for a moment, 
then wisely followed her. For me, I said in haste: "Don't 
send the dress! Don't send the dress!" Then dropped upon 



282 A Psychic Autobiography 

my knees, lost in a sense of greatness interclosing all our lit- 
tleness. And, presently, being still upon my knees — how 
shall I tell it adequately? — Mother came: She stood so 
near — (J partly seeing her) — she seemed to press against 
me, — as palpable to soul, as flesh is palpable to flesh! 

Now why expect from spirit visitants ineffable revela- 
tions? — "whirlwinds" and "clouds" and "living creatures" — 
like to "burning coals" and wheels with rings "set full of 
eyes," their work the "colour of a beryl." Let them be 
altogether human. This was my very mother! — not Saint 
Ann, nor "blessedest Saint Lucy." One who remembered, 
loved, forgave, as earthly mothers will. Once I had 
wounded her with accusation, and she had spared rebuke; 
but now the words that I had spoken then, her words brought 
back to memory in all their cruelty — and yet forevermore 
condoned. 

"Mother, I think that you don't like to see me well- 
dressed." That had been my word. 

"Daughter, / got you that money; You see I do like to see 
you well dressed !" That was her word, after so many years! 

"Oh, blame of Love! — Sweeter than other's praise." 

That afternoon I sought Miss Shattuck: " I did not know 
you had a sister here. How did she come to send me such 
a gift?" 

Well, it is worth the telling. Two months earlier, hav- 
ing a special cause for fear, she promised secretly: "If I am 
saved, I'll give the Lord ten dollars." So, being freed from 
apprehension, she found herself indebted, not knowing how 
to pay. Once she decided: "I'll give it to the foreign Mis- 
sions," but then an "inner voice" had counseled: " Give it to 
some one in the House." I think this lady was a Presby- 
terian ; but what of that ? Whoever spoke, she heard! 

Miss Shattock said : " I chanced to speak of you. I 
groaned as usual : ' Oh, if I only had her faith ! ' " 

" Who is Miss Jones?" 

"A friend who earned her living writing children's stories. 
Since Chicago burned, she's lived on faith. God sends her 
all she needs." 



Ways and Means 283 

" Go down to Mr. Linton. Draw ten dollars ; take them 
to your friend." That was the way of it. 

This gift, on one side pre-determined, on the other pre- 
assigned and prophesied, makes evident how close they are 
whom we have called our dead! — how potent to assist! 

When the two added months had passed, amply provided 
for by personal gifts (not household charity), two or three 
more were needed. I would not stay a day beyond the limit. 
In Dr. Foster's absence, I packed my trunks and sent them 
to the attic, bade good-bye to Deborah Huntington, gave up 
my key and went, as pre-arranged, to visit Hattie Browne. 
Frankly I put the spirits to a final test. If, without any 
movement on my part, means for a further stay, up to the 
limit of necessity should be provided, that would confirm the 
whole. Thenceforward I should be irrevocably pledged ! It 
was a solemn covenant. 

And so I watched my silent Mrs. Browne lay on her pig- 
ments, paint her lovely landscapes (not for art alone, though 
that was much), and set myself to interview the children — 
very shy of speech. Also I hearkened to her husband pa- 
tiently, the while he talked of general wrongs and individual 
rights — vaguely, as people will who never have been wronged 
appreciably. All other hours, when free to be alone, and 
not asleep, I wrestled for my faith. 

" Promise me that you will never lose your faith" said Dr. 
Andrews. How could I hope to meet him far a-field, un- 
less I kept my word ? But, infinitely more, how could I hope 
to "wear away" from earth as he had done, if those I might 
have lifted up were left to crawl below? I dared not lose 
my faith. 

When I had settled into perfect trust, there came a definite 
assurance : " What you need will come. A little tomorrow. 
After three days enough." 

Next day an unsigned letter came from Clifton Village: 
"Trust in the Lord and do good, and verily thou shalt be 
fed." The would-be thief who tore it open in the mail-car, 
had not the heart to steal my precious dollar. Perhaps the 
judge, who sentenced him to Sing Sing for the like, had been 
more lenient, if he had known of this. 

" After three days," I went to Clifton. Passing by the 



284 A Psychic Autobiography 

Cure, not meaning to go in, I heard my name called from an 
open window. Mr. Linton met me in the hall. Some said 
he never owned that he believed in God ; but now he took 
my hand (hurting it not a little) and looked at me intently! 
"God is good to you! Last night a gentleman and lady pre- 
paid your treatment for the next three months. They've 
gone away, — you are not even allowed to know their names. 
You're ordered back at once. You'll find your trunk in 
No. 17." 

Ah, well! You guess the riddle? Dr. and Mrs. Von 
Von Rosa! Not for a little fortune would I leave off the 
Vons! 

This followed next: I sought an interview with Dr. 
Henry Foster: "I have an offer — very pressing — from Chi- 
cago. Some wealthy men propose to start a family paper — I 
to be the editor. They'll give me thirty dollars weekly — 
they'll even hold the place for me two or three months till I 
am well enough. What would result in case I should ac- 
cept? 

"Possibly you'd live two years; not more than that. When 
you go down next time, nothing on earth can save you." 

" Dr. Foster, when I told you on the first of January, up 
at Yuh Heh Springs, that I had seen a vision, I did not 
fully know that God had chosen me, above all others, to 
make that vision real. It had been promised me that I 
should "help;" I must do more than that. And now, I 
know that God had chosen me. I dare not die. I have 
this work to do." 

Dr. Foster looked far-off in silence : Then he said : " / 
have more faith in Yuh Heh Mineral Springs than in all 
other mineral and magnetic springs combined; and I have 
tested all." 

Dr. Hubbard Foster (visiting at Clifton) came to talk 
with me. He said, to my delight: "You are doing good. 
You are advocating air-baths. Patients have asked me 
whether you are right. I tell them all to trust your judg- 
ment first and last; it fully equals mine." Now, Dr. Hub- 
bard was the chief apostle. He had unlocked the doors and 
let that system in among the other systems — far as pro- 
hibiting patentees allowed; not very far. Alas, how people 



Ways and Means 285 

will be dosed! Moreover, think of it! Shut and bolted in 
two hours! They found it terrifying. Suppose the thing 
blew up? 

More to my immediate purpose, Dr. Hubbard said: "My 
brother Henry tells me you were the means of introducing 
him to Mrs. Collins, who owns Magnetic Springs. He's 
tested them six months, and says no other waters equal 
them. Strangest of all, he finds they have the cleansing 
power of mercury without its ill effects. God knows how 
such a remedy is needed! Once introduced, the world has 
you to thank as well as Mrs. Collins." 

My vision and the words that followed — this was con- 
firmation past dispute! I held my peace. Much as I loved 
and honored Dr. Hubbard Foster (who long before had 
proved himself a friend inestimable,) I would not speak 
again till doors were opened. God must point the way. 

I used to sleep in air bath, waking with all my senses 
clarified, — the Psychic with the rest. And so it came about 
one day in early April that I awoke and saw what proved to 
have for me momentous meaning. There stood, within my 
reach, a large and very heavy wooden cross — unlovely yet 
illuminated of itself, as though from inner light. 

I thought: "Now I am called upon for sacrifice. It 
must be some one in the house has need of me, — not Deborah ; 
others have taken charge of her," (that was a marvelous 
place for benefactions) "who then can it be?" And, being 
in the way of sacrifice, I cast my thoughts about to no avail. 
After a day or two when nothing came of this, I let it pass 
from mind. 

Then, all at once, like a strong heat from some wide con- 
flagration, came a singular fervor, in which my futile won- 
derings were shriveled up. I dare suppose this was no mood 
of mine save under inspiration. Did not my spirit-doctor 
say another spirit-guardian would come? I was aware of 
him as I had been before of Dr. Andrews. I knew his very 
name. 

And now I saw by perfect Psychic memory, that home for 
hapless women, shown to me before; — built out of bricks, 
made wide and high and 



286 A Psychic Autobiography 

" Set four-square to all the winds that blow." 

Straightway, I took my long-neglected pencils, sat me 
down and strove to be an architect. "Here is the facade, 
here the porch for entrance, over that the granite, carved 
with Mother's name — "The Mary Alma Homestead"; — 
here shall run the halls, this way and that; here will be the 
reading-room well lined with books, and here a recreation- 
gallery hung with many pictures. This dining-room will 
glow with many flowers, this chapel thrill with organ melo- 
dies; and every little private room will be a sanctuary for 
some converted soul. 

"Founded and built and well endowed: — write down a 
million dollars; write, ' not begged — provided!' Who shall 
provide the money? That is for me to do. 

"And now, — behold my Work! 

"But after that, must be a Home for children, brought 
from profligate haunts and scenes of drunkenness. If 
this were mine to build, since father had a mighty love 
for children, that stone above the door should bear his name : 
" ' The Henry Homestead.' " Even in the Heaven of 
Heavens, that thought would make him glad. 

"But further still — let future generations see to all! The 
state shall drain the swamps; and ail around shall lie the 
berry-fields, the market-gardens, orchards, nurseries, floral 
beds and basket willow groves. Out in the sun and delving 
in the ground, those who have come from city hells, shall 
fit themselves to people Paradise. And all shall earn and 
none shall beg; till after ' fifty years ' the second vision of 
the thriving village shall prove itself a glad reality. And 
men shall know that spirits dwell with men, for blessing, not 
for hurt." 

All of this I dwelt upon with ecstacy; then I awoke from 
dreams. "Now let me demonstrate my faith. So I an- 
nounced the work, as mine, not publicly but to a chosen few. 
I wrote to David Gray — poet and editor, who had a sin- 
gular faith in me as one called and elected to the poet's 
office; I said that I must utterly resign my personal am- 
bition ; what he had prophesied for me could never come to 
pass. I wrote to Mrs. Hester Poole, one of the founders of 



Ways and Means 287 

"Sorosis." I wrote to my Progressive Friends; — to one who 
posed as a philanthropist; — to certain literary intimates, — 
lastly to kith and kin. And then I told our "Reading 
Class" — five faithful Methodists, — (they never breathed a 
doubt.) 

All had the self-same story; I had seen a vision; — I never 
hid that light under a bushel! I said that God had chosen 
me — I must obey, — must cause that vision to be verified. 

David Gray grieved for the vanished poet: "And yet," 
he said: "You have no choice. You will succeed if there 
are miracles. God speed you on! Here is my contribu- 
tion." 

Mrs. Poole replied : " Come to New York. You shall 
be introduced to many wealthy women!" I have talked with 
one or two already. We think your work is glorious!" My 
corpulent philanthropist rebuked : " Such work is not for 
single women ... Very unbecoming!" Progressive Friends 
believed! My kith and kin proclaimed no unbelief. No 
one had scoffed but one big man, — a camel laden heavily. 
Alas, the needle's eye! 

Somewhere (perhaps Leigh Hunt imagined it), there is 
a story of an Eleusinian candidate, who, that he might be- 
hold the goddesses Demeter and Persephone, walked, well 
sustained, upon a bridge of air. And this did I, what time 
the hour arrived. 

Meantime I faced the unsubstantial bridge and paused : 
Let Faith declare herself. Six days I spent in prayer. All 
the first day I talked about my weakness. That little nugget, 
health, mined out of shifting sands, I hammered like a very 
smith to prove its almost nothingness: "Behold," I said, 
"how slight a thing is this!" I made myself appear the one 
most inconsiderable creature in the universe. "Yet here I 
am! Make use of me, or pass me by; but let the work be 
done." 

When it was time to sleep some one drew near and said : — 
"Ephesians: Sixth and tenth." When I had found the 
place, I read: "Be strong in the Lord and in the power of 
His might." — "Well, if the strength be His," I laughed, 
" what more is needed ? " — So I slept that night like any 
child. 



288 A Psychic Autobiography 

Yet, soon as I awoke next morning, there was a fiercer 
lion close at hand : " I cannot speak about this work of mine 
unless I tell my vision — not to my friends alone, in secrecy, 
but to a scoffing world. I must even stand, as one upon a 
rocky eminence — a mountain crag (I so imagined it) and 
call aloud : ' Look up to me ! / breathe the higher atmos- 
phere. Spirits are my companions. God has appointed me 
to be his prophet. Here I build an altar; here I sacrifice.' 

" How dare I vaunt myself before the world — set up 
advertisements like any spiritual charlatan — declare myself in- 
spired ? I am no better than my fellows — no more to be 
revered. Who will believe my words? Who will not 
scorn my work?" 

And yet I sank upon my knees at last: " Lord, even so, 
if that shall be Thy will." 

Now in all scripture, searched with diligence through 
many days, what one of us could chance upon a text equal 
to this, my need? And yet the text was found; and not, I 
do aver, by any thought or knowledge of my own : — 

" Read the last verse of the Book of Habakkuk." So I 
sought and read: " The Lord is my strength, and He 
will make my feet like hind's feet, and He will make me to 
stand upon mine high places." And I was glad again. 

Next day I fell into another pit, and after that another, 
and another. Three nights just such a braided rope, flung 
down, had pulled me out; never the words of any text, al- 
ways the place of it, the book, the chapter and the verse, — 
contenting me with proof invincible. 

Last day of all the days, I had but one thing left to say: 
"Lord, choose a greater woman ; let her lead and let me fol- 
low. I cannot spare my work — I want my work, but dig- 
nity and grace and power and mental breadth and business 
talent all are lacking. There could not be a feebler instru- 
ment; give me the second place." 

That was the hardest day of all ; but, at the end of it, a 
final message came — an ultimate command: "Your lesson to- 
night is in Ezra." I thought to find the book among 
the lesser prophets (lacking the sense of place) ; Confused I 
said : "There is no book of Ezra." "Yes, — Your lesson is 
in Ezra. The fourth verse of the tenth chapter." 



Ways and Means 28'9 

When I had read the text I said: "I'll ask no further 
proof. This is enough! ' A rise; for this matter belongeth 
unto thee. We also will be with thee. Be of good courage 
and do it' " 



XXV 



A SAFETY-CAGE 



8 


T 



HE first of May had come. With yet a 
world of strength to gain, my health was 
very well assured; and my physician 
thought no further remedy was needed 
save a draught, three times a day, during 
four weeks, from Yuh Heh Springs. Only 

a wine glass full — that doesn't sound like 

much; and yet those triple glasses sent me off to sleep be- 
yond all precedent; — ten hours at night and four or five 
hours more out in the open, lying on heaps of rubble ! Even 
ardor died away ; I sank in waves of rest. I do profess myself 
an advocate of that magnetic water. I do believe that spirits 
first discovered it, perceived its unexampled virtue, brought 
illuminating thoughts to bear on spirits resident in flesh, and 
gently moved on human wills, to cause an exploration, bring- 
ing them to light. 

Against my early prejudice, I, who -would never tamper 
with the drugs of pharmacy beyond innocuous herbs, now 
find myself believing to the full in Nature's vital currents — 
poured out with prodigality from that deep well. Beside it, 
I received my chrism of consecration ! Well may I believe. 
When Dr. Jonathan Andrews said another spirit-guardian 
would take his place with me, I do suppose he knew the very 
way of it. All along the path, his hand had led me on 
through shadowy places, beside the perilous abysses, over 
" frail and air-suspended bridges " — even to the very pass 
through which another hand should guide me into open 
fields. There I must sow, that others after me might reap. 
There was no place for me among discarnate souls till this 
should be fulfilled. 

Behold then J. R. Evelyn — erstwhile a judge in Liverpool! 
This he said — this I believed. He never gave the date — nor 

290 



A Safety-Cage 291 

spoke of former days when he was one with men and learned 
their vital needs. When the physician left, the lawyer 
came — to me an arbiter of destiny; to you, I trust, a friend. 
That is for you to choose. 

While I was Mrs. Collins' guest during the month of May 
(1872) he came to me one day in homely fashion as to 
speech, keeping himself — the disembodied spirit — -undiscerned. 
He had not come, he never came, to make exhibit of him- 
self, save as a human soul with human sympathies and in- 
terests. And this is literally what he said : "My friend, I 
ask your patience; I am about to shut you close within a 
small white tower. You will not even see a door for exit. 
When I shall set you free, then you may travel any way by 
any vehicle, save only upward, by balloon." 

No saying could have seemed more blind to me. I had 
not long to wait. Come if you like and learn the mystery 
of the "small white tower." Escape from it with me and 
walk on many roads thereafter; but notice how aerial ve- 
hicles, that lured, were swept away, and I still left to walk 
on solid earth, — a toilsome path, but safe. 

Before I left the Springs a letter came from William L. 
and Mrs. Hattie Browne. "Come to our house; consider 
this your home, till you are called away." 

These friends believed in spirit-intercourse, but not, I 
judge, wholly from personal experience, — rather from ap- 
prehension — all the more to be relied upon because of spon- 
taneity. They wanted spirit visits ; no doubt they hoped for 
such through me ; but both were truly hospitable, being not 
rich, except in qualities. 

Please let me speak in tropes. You've seen a silver moun- 
tain-brook drop suddenly from sight between the interclud- 
ing rocks. When you have peered far down, you've caught 
faint glimpses of a glimmering pool — its water silenced, deep 
in shadow; — Oh, the coolness! Oh, the peace! If not the 
peace, at least, the quietude! But all the time you under- 
stood that little channels here or there would somewhere 
deepen — rills would slip away at last, with infinite pleasure 
of escape and feed a thousand flowers. So dwelt, in shade, 
this little family! And so I dwelt with them. There was 
a small, white tower — a viewless, Psychic prison, shut in be- 



292 A Psychic Autobiography 

tween the rocks (you see I think in tropes:) Be Psycho- 
metric, friends : look deep through thirty-seven years, let vision 
pierce the walls: Mayhap you'll see another than myself, 
set there to judge whatever needed judgment beyond the 
doorless walls. But speaking outwardly, I certainly was not 
alone: A mother, hushed, indeed, but not the less fulfilling 
every task, — housewife and governess and artist; three stu- 
dious children — minds alert, but voices rarely heard as songs 
of winter birds; a father — not unlike the circling walls that 
kept all ruffling winds away, and — yes! — the noise of 
thrushes. 

None of these five had aptitude for fluent speech, nor yet 
for ready writing. If either were required as being tele- 
pathic — foreign to myself — here was no source at hand; 
unless, indeed, by way of spirit-visitation. As for Mr. 
Browne, he had his fixed ideas. Loco-motors move on iron 
rails, and cannot be deflected without catastrophe. No doubt 
of estimable traits himself — he had a deep distrust of world- 
moralities. His children must not go alone beyond the 
gate; so they were taught at home. He had two patents, 
both unfarmed, through dread, it seemed, of partnership. If 
he had any plans for rectifying things — save by enforced 
division possibly, he never gave them utterance within my 
hearing. 

I need to say these things in view of what must follow. 
You have a right to know who shared with me that " small, 
white tower " that seemed to have no door ; also to study out, 
each for yourself, this problem, viz.: Whether that which 
came originated with myself or with the other five (the 
youngest barely eight), or with a higher source, as I believe. 

Accounting for my vagrant personality throughout those 
fifteen weeks, I spent my mornings half the time, at least, 
in simply earning money. This I was at liberty to do. 
There was a serial story (Icelandic, I remember) written 
for the " Family Paper " ; there were scraps for Mr. Alden ; 
also I gained through him, a poet's prize for " Apple- 
Blossoms " — printed with decorations. I saw that poem 
after twenty years, among collected " Masterpieces " ; — the 
only piece of verse, I ever wrote, save one, that would not 
stay in memory! — an atmosphere, a fragrance, very little 



A Safety-Cage 2<93 

else! Oh, certainly, if there were any stress or strain of 
thought among the six of us, / must be counted out ! 

The second night Judge Evelyn came, — strong voiced, em- 
phatic, courteous withal, but like a man acquainted with the 
world, who has afiairs, who thinks of earthly things and never 
talks of Heaven; upright, — perhaps severe, but not unmerci- 
ful ; a man who never talks of love — yet loves. 

When he had greeted us, he said : " I wish, with your 
permission, to give a series of discourses on Social Juris- 
prudence." (I thought: " What does he mean? ") Then 
for the first and only time, it seemed he took a fact out of 
my store of knowledge, and made full use of it to illustrate 
some purpose of his own — not yet to be revealed. " For 
how," I thought, " could any Judge from Liverpool, who 
lived long time ago, know anything about a mechanism late 
invented? " However that might be, instead of opening up 
his chosen subject, he waived it for the evening and gave us 
first a parable — or rather as it seemed, an illustration in ad- 
vance, prefiguring some ultimate intent, impossible for us to 
guess. He said: 

" There is a mine not yet explored. I have myself dis- 
covered it. This mine is for the common people. It is rich 
in gold. No one can ever get possession of the whole; but 
each may search therein, pick out its particles of ore, and 
so, without defrauding any, be himself, to some extent, en- 
riched. 

" Now, every mine should have a Safety-Cage. Men step 
within, are carried down and brought above, without en- 
dangering life. These cages operate by means of cables, very 
durable — and yet they sometimes break. If that should 
happen, still the cage will not be wrecked, for underneath it 
is equipped with two steel arms, that when the fall begins, 
by automatic action, leap from rest, strike out and cut their 
way into the solid wall on either hand and so uphold the 
whole. 

" Not only have I sought and found a mine, I have pre- 
pared an ample Safety-Cage; and all who choose may step 
therein and be conveyed below. The young and old, the 
rich and poor will be alike invited ; but none shall bring from 
out the mine more than his rightful share." 



294 A Psychic Autobiography 

The spirit turned to Mr. Browne: " Friend, you are near 
at hand and I invite you first; and yet I warn you in ad- 
vance. I have prepared the Cage, I have attached the cable ; 
but, understand, the shaft is not yet smooth. If there be 
any sharp and ragged rock of selfishness, not broken down, 
and worn away, that rock will cut the rope. The Cage will 
start to fall; but on its way to wreckage, two arms will 
swing from underneath, imbed themselves in rock, and hold 
it fast. They are the strong, steel arms of Law! However 
long the time of waiting, nothing shall harm the Safety-Cage, 
— and no one shall exhaust the mine." 

Now, after that, he added certain trenchant words — a per- 
fect proof to me, in later times, of preternatural knowledge; 
— a divination and a prophecy. These were personal to one 
among us; I do not write them down. 

As for the lectures they were many, — never very long I 
judged, but very frequent. Begun in early June — I think 
we had the last in middle August, — at least before the close. 
Not always formal, never quite familiar, they dealt exclu- 
sively with social life, social activities and social righteousness. 
The spirit never talked of Heaven ; he never crossed the line 
between this world and that. He taught us what is due to 
each and all from each and all. " Wrong must be followed 
by retraction," that is the mercy of the law; — retraction satis- 
fies; but always, right must rule. He showed the home, a 
very resting place for faith and love and beautiful desire; he 
made the neighborhood a larger home, with gates that open 
out upon the world, — itself the greater home. He took us 
through the little market places, made us count our pennies, 
showed the essential rightfulness of trade, the holiness of 
equal interchange. Honesty became to us an all-embracing 
atmosphere — a breathing-space, boundless as Heaven, and 
glorified with light. 

Once, speaking of benevolence, he turned to Mr. Browne, 
propounding this : " Suppose you saw two men near to each 
other, but not in reach of any save yourself. Suppose that 
one of these were wholly destitute — were actually starving — 
the other rich, well-fed and well-content, bearing a purse of 
gold. Would you be justified in snatching at the purse and, 



A Safety-Cage 295 

taking forcible possession, bestowing it upon the dying 
man? " 

" Most certainly, I should! " 

Half-shocked, and half in doubt, I waited the reply. 
Would I could write it word by word, and not by way of 
partial paraphrase! and yet I give the sense. 

" Not so my friend. There is no man who is not moved 
to pity — wait but long enough. Meantime, extortion kills 
benevolent desire. The one whose body dies because of hun- 
ger, needs but common food. That is a transient evil, — 
death merges into life. But he whose greed withholds what 
love would grant, has far the greater need. He starves his 
deathless soul — forever dwarfed from what it would have 
been, had that one act of kindness helped to make it great. 
See that you hinder not the rich man's right to give! Stand 
back and let him have his opportunity." 

During these talks, I was aware of mental growth. The 
field was new to me; at least, I had not entered it before 
with one who knew what weeds to pull, what wholesome 
plants to leave; and I was being taught. You know that I 
was looking out for news from Heaven; he gave us news of 
earth. We realized the strong necessity for human traffic, 
mutual enterprise and manual labor; for righteous brother- 
hoods, uniting rich and poor; for laws impeccable, and love 
that makes for peace. 

But now I think of it, this lecturer never talked of spirit- 
visitation. He came, and that sufficed. I never saw him 
come. I knew that he was there when thought surged in 
and speech made haste to follow, when voice and action took 
on personality, and I — who seemed to speak — had nothing 
left to do but listen and be glad; and also, by the further 
fact, that what he uttered came far short of what he made 
me know, or dimly recognize. I was aware of brain- 
illumination. A mind was brought to bear on mine that, 
like a spiritual magnet, gave me qualities I had not owned, 
but never since have altogether lost. 

Maybe I had a natural distaste for business. Certainly I 
had no mercantile forbears. They fought or preached or 
farmed, built bridges, manufactured cloth, and one of them, 
I'm told, almost achieved perpetual motion! But now I 



296 A Psychic Autobiography 

learned respect for bargainers — little admired before. For 
when Judge Evelyn passed from principles to practicalities, 
nothing, as I have shown, seemed quite too small to dwell 
upon. We learned to know what " Social Jurisprudence " 
means, — not merely abstract Right, but Right applied, — 
what one man has a right to from his fellows, and what he 
owes to them. Each for himself with others, all for each and 
all. 

We'll say an artist — one like Vereshtchagin — sets out, by 
your desire, to paint a mighty picture. First you get an at- 
mospheric space (hardly a sky) for sea-escaping vapors, cir- 
rus clouds and lurid thunderheads, with ample room for 
hurricanes, or, peradventure, silent storms of light that beat 
the icebergs down; and after that, he limns the mountain 
ranges, smoothes them far above with snow, and silvers them 
low down with river-tributaries; and then he sets the seas 
to rocking; — " There's your world," he says; " built up and 
swung about, by everlasting Law. Do you approve the 
picture? " 

"Yes, but where is home?" you ask. So on he paints 
and shows you cliff-built monasteries where men go bare- 
foot and subdue the flesh; and, lower down, small caves for 
holy hermits, never seen by any; they wait behind the rocks 
till come the poor and leave them wheaten cakes, — and so 
they pray or praise the whole day through. (Who knows? 
Perhaps they curse!) And still he goes on painting: Nun- 
neries where women waste their precious youth in telling 
beads or stitching scapulars; temples for gods, and palaces 
for princes; cities for thriving traders; mansions for the 
rich; attics for strivers; hovels for the destitute; cellars and 
under-cellars for the desperate; and, off at sea, great ships 
for sailors far from port, with countless voyagers. " All 
these are homes for human folk; — built up and roofed with 
Law. Now are you satisfied ? " 

" But no; the folk, before the homes! — show us the happy 
folk" And down he throws the brush : " Come, then, and 
live the Law ! " 

Even so Judge Evelyn showed us first the Law's mag- 
nificence, then stripped away the robe and proved its lowli- 
ness. He taught us how to walk the common world nor 



A Safety-Cage 297 

set our feet in traps; to get us earthly values — farms and 
factories and forges; to cut away, down every shaft, the 
ragged rocks of selfishness; to dig, and prune and buy and 
sell and give; each man an advocate of others' rights — no 
man a plunderer of any! So all should live the law! 

At last he turned aside — or so I deemed — and talked of 
patents, — not inventions merely, but well-protected, market- 
able grants, designed to make inventors rich because of 
special merit. Night after night he talked of patents only; 
first, inventor's rights — sacred as human life; then, people's 
rights, — since every value ought to count for all within its 
round and reach, not be engorged by any. 

When he began, my ignorance was dense. I knew but 
two inventors — Levi Brown and William Livingston 
Browne, neither of whom had any capability for worldly 
enterprise. A Martian, sculling little boats along his broad 
canals, knows more of deep-sea navigation than I had ever 
learned of patent-management or patent-legislation. Under 
this stimulus, my faculties along that line were all ablaze 
with borrowed comprehension. Could all this clear in- 
struction be meant for Mr. Browne alone, — who would not, 
could not — so it seemed to me — make any use of it? I 
wondered all the days; and never guessed the secret. 

Now I confess this seemed so far away from what I most 
desired, I never dreamed that it was meant for me. Since 
I, in very truth, was no inventor. No flounce of mine had 
ever brushed a Patent Office door-jamb, or caught on court- 
house palings. Perhaps the sole invention I had found of 
interest was Hargreaves' Spinning Jenny; — it was such fun, 
at eight years old, to watch three hundred spindles whirl 
and twist as many threads to Mother's one! What wonder 
if I grew a little restive, murmuring, about the break of 
every day: " But spirits, what about my mission work? 
Why keep me here for this? I know that you are wise and 
have your purposes, but I have mine as well. Use me to 
educate this man, if that be thought worth while — but oh, 
my idle hands! I want my mission-work" 

Still, evenings found me placid — kindled me anew, and 
so the talks went on. One evening he who spoke to us 
caused me to turn and seem to look at Mrs. Browne. He 



298 A Psychic Autobiography 

broke off, saying gently: " Lady, you are very tired." Her 
husband answered : " She's been canning fruit all day." 

" Friends, do you know there is a way of canning fruit 
without cooking it ? " 

" Tell us ! " said Mr. Browne, with eagerness. 

He answered in a voice of great severity: " When the 
right time comes, that shall be shown." 

A tremor caught me: " Maybe / shall know." 

I forced the thought away; — only next day I said con- 
fusedly: "Judge Evelyn taxes my credulity; to can and 
not to cook — that sounds preposterous. Not that I really 
doubt." And I am sure I never thought of that again, 
until the time had come! 

At last in early August — perhaps about the first, Judge 
Evelyn said that he desired to write. You know — or I have 
told you — that he had written once before; but let me say 
there had not been the least prevision on my part, that he 
would write again. There had not been a thought within 
my mind of any such necessity. A " mine," a " safety- 
cage," a " ragged rock of selfishness," a " cable " cut in 
twain, " two strong steel arms of Law," the perfect time, — - 
all these, depicted when he first drew near and spoke to. us, 
had faded out of sight. " Wise men, astrologers magi- 
cians " — even Daniel's self, unless inspired, could never have 
revealed the secret locked from sight among those five pro- 
jected symbols. After they were shown some wrongful act 
was prophesied. And yet I had and could have had, no 
thought of this or of the safety-cage when — lifting up my 
yielding hand one quiet sunset hour (yet light enough for 
seeing) — Judge Evelyn took the pen and wrote out fair and 
large these unimagined, unimaginable words: 



THE CRUSADE DOCUMENTS. 

This was years before the Women's " Temperance Cru- 
sade," and did not anyway prefigure it. Nothing was in my 
thoughts that could have taken shape and re-produced itself 
in but a single sentence out of all he wrote, which I trans- 
mit to you. I could no more have written thus, than built 



A Safety-Cage 2'99 

a tabernacle on Mount Tabor for you and me and Moses 
and EH as. 

As to the manner of the writing, I choose to let another 
make report. His letter shall be fully verified. 

Frank L. Browne, formerly of Shortsville, N. Y., to 
Amanda T. Jones: Jan. i$, igog. 

* * * " During a life that has now passed the half- 
century milestone, many surprising and many pleasing events 
have transpired, among the latest being the receipt of letters 

from you I feel that not a thousandth part of the 

warm affection which surges up from boy-hood recollection, 
will find expression or will — being put on paper — be ex- 
pressed The spirit within me harks back to boyhood's 

happy days and is filled with supreme gladness because of 
receiving a message from one so closely associated with those 
days. The joy within me seeks an outlet; the music within 
me seeks a listener; and I would fain share that joy and that 
music with the revered woman whose written words have 
produced them I recall clearly much about 

" THE CRUSADE DOCUMENTS."" 

" That yours was the hand that held the pen that indited 
these documents is perhaps a first and most important item. 
This I can affirm without hesitation or qualification. I was 
sixteen or just past sixteen — old enough to observe, remem- 
ber, and know what transpired in my presence. To the best 
of my recollection I was present during the entire production 
of these documents — a process that occupied one hour or 
two nearly every evening for many weeks. — [About five.] 

" It was the custom of the family to assemble in our home- 
sitting room after twilight had faded into darkness and with 
no artificial light of any description, several pages would be 
written by your hand. As a mere boy, understanding but 
vaguely Psychic matters, I marvelled much at the clearness 
and perfect style of the writing, the accuracy with which 
the lines followed each other across the paper; the almost 
print-like contour of the letters — i. e., their legibility; the 
fact that no blots or mis-strokes appeared (and you will re- 
member this was before the day of the fountain pen — after 
each few words the pen had to be carried to the ink-bottle 
and back to the point where it was working) ; all this taking 



300 A Psychic Autobiography 

place in darkness dense enough to obscure everything except 
vague outlines of familiar objects 

" Even as I write now, after a lapse of thirty-six years, 
my mind questions : ' Was it really pen-work ? ' However, 
if but done with pencil, it would still be a strong demon- 
stration of spirit control. But I am so sure. I know I had 
the written sheets in my hand each day following their pro- 
duction, and made copies therefrom, which, with boyish en- 
thusiasm I filed away and treasured as something of extra- 
ordinary value. Surely all these impressions would not be 
so forcefully traced upon brain-records unless the facts were 
there to make them. 

" We would sit quietly for a little time, and then in a 
resonant voice ' Judge Evelyn ' would announce his presence, 
make some pertinent remarks, and the writing would com- 
mence. I recall clearly the fact that he once stated that the 
time would come when fruit would be preserved without the 
boiling process. And also my father's surmise that electricity 
would be the new element introduced to achieve that result. 
An idea, if I may digress for a moment, showing what a 
vague comprehension of electricity was in his mind, since 
the application of electricity almost invariably produces heat 
— even to degrees nearly beyond comprehension. 

" The documents being finally completed, my father took 
charge of them, putting them away in a metal cylinder, made 
for the purpose, sealed closely and most carefully placed 
where they would not be disturbed. Why he did this was 
beyond my comprehension — but not beyond my investigating 
curiosity. Why it was done, I knew not, but how it was 
done was to me a wonderfully, interesting and clearly un- 
derstood proceeding. My idea was that the extreme value 
of the documents inspired the action. The fact that he put 
the documents into print and had them copyrighted was also 
accounted for on similar lines. 

" One more point ; that is the date of the work, and I will 
pass to other matters. The documents were written at my 
boyhood's home in Shortsville, N. Y., through your hand, 
in the year 1872, I think in the late spring or early summer 
of that year. I place the date quite readily because in 1873, 
about a year later, I left home and made acquaintance with 



A Safety-Cage 301 

the outside world — its ways and customs in practical life 
being — up to that time — to me a sealed book. 

" Recovery of the Original MSS. This I fear is doubt- 
ful. And before going into detail as to the why, I will 
state that if at any time the necessary expense can be met 
and it should seem advisable to make a search, I am willing 
to go and personally inspect the ■ packed away ' effects that 
Flora speaks of. I believe that I could do this with less 
trouble and more effectiveness than could any one else. 
Should the time come when it seems wise or desirable or pos- 
sible, I pledge you my honest service in this matter. 

" Fred, in scraps of confidence, related of the sorting of 
father's and mother's papers and letters, and the numerous 

bonfires that received old treasured correspondence 

Nothing was ever said of the 'Crusade Documents;' and 
while it may be possible that they are still in existence, there 
is also a strong probability that they shared the fate of other 
choice treasures. 

" My recollections of ' The Crusade Documents ' are 
written in more of a personal letter than a concise statement 
form. Use whatever meets your requirements, in form to 
suit yourself. I have simply stated facts as I recall 
them If, however, you wish to use my name and ad- 
dress in connection, I think it would be best to give Shorts- 

ville as the address. I will, however, keep you posted 

Remember that my recital comes from the heart rather than 
from the head, and is a tribute of affection, inspired by re- 
membrance of days when you were a guide and counsellor 
to a ' timid ' unsophisticated ■ boy ' who in the popular sense 
of the words, ' Never saw the inside of a schoolhouse.' 
" Ever Faithfully Yours, 

" F. L. BROWNE." 
From the same to the same, Jan. 23, 1909. 

" Perhaps it would be well, if my written statement is to 
go on file as recorded evidence, for me to write and sign a 
letter devoted to that special subject. 

" I recall the ' Safety-Cage ' thought, or rather expression, 
but detail in regard to it does not come to mind. F. L. B." 

From Miss Flora M. Browne, Shortsville, N. Y., April 
19, 1908. 



302 A Psychic Autobiography 

" I received your photograph. It looks just as I remem- 
ber you when you were a guest of my father and mother and 
in delicate health. 

" I was a large child but in the summer of '72 had not 
reached the age of eight by quite a little bit. The testimony 
you wish for would come more properly from my brother, 
Frank. I became quite familiar with the sight of the Cru- 
sade Documents in the old home, but you can readily under- 
stand that at that time I would not be likely to know from 
whence came your inspiration. The old home was sold soon 

after the death of my mother And the few things 

which were preserved have been packed in small quarters 
ever since. I don't remember that I ever saw the ' original 
writings ' and am not able to say that there are any printed 
copies in existence or I would be glad to send them to you. 
" Your friend, 
" FLORA M. BROWNE." 

I resume the story in propria persona. During the lec- 
tures there was never any artificial light — that being more or 
less disturbing to one in Psychic trance, — to me, at least, 
whose normal faculties were never put to sleep. We had 
our western windows — light in June will linger long; but 
when my well-sealed eyes were opened the room was always 
dark and all the outlines faint. 

The writing was not done in Psychic trance; at least my 
eyes were always open after the spirit's introductory words. 
I saw, if there was light enough to see by, what was being 
written; or otherwise, I saw the outline of the paper, and 
was not troubled if I saw no more. What he said each 
time — mere words of greeting — was no way relevant to any- 
thing he was about to write. Not one of all his thoughts 
came fairly in advance of words. His mind, my brain, co- 
operated on the instant. Nothing was hurried, nothing was 
delayed. Not seeing well, I wondered : " Do the lines run 
true? " and that I did not know, or then or afterward, until 
the letter came that I have given you. At other times, I 
thought : " This is a complicated scheme ; — do all its parts 
agree?" And I supposed they did. Once I said in mind: 
" He gives me ' Marshal,' would not General be better?" 
Having a certain superficial knowledge due to battle- 



A Safety-Cage 303 

studies, once I thought : " There were no Sergeants-General 
in the army. I wonder what he means." 

These thoughts of mine were independent — stage-whispers 
you might call them. The writing went on steadily, with- 
out a break except to fill the pen, up to a certain limit — 
perhaps five hundred words, — then stopped, and Mr. Browne 
removed the sheets at once. I never asked to see them; all 
next day I moved about as in a dream thinking of that 
which had been written, wondering, but never guessing what 
was yet to be. I had a vivid consciousness of brain-illumi- 
nation; much as the blind man knows there is a sun when 
out in August heats, I was aware of light. 

Now, when we thought the work was done, Judge Evelyn 
said one afternoon : " I wish to copy all the pages. Please 
bring the writings here." 

My host appeared displeased, yet brought the first few 
pages — taking them away together with the copies soon as 
they were made. Each time he brought me other pages — 
and took all leaves away. During this copying I read the 
former pages always as I wrote the new ones. I noted twice 
or thrice the substitution of a word, and once the alteration 
of a phrase. " Why not have written all correctly on the 
start?" said Mr. Browne, one morning. I could not an- 
swer then, but now I can. The spirit manifestly chose, by 
repetition, to print the whole of it upon my memory — know- 
ing well that I was not to see the manuscript again — no, not 
one leaf of it! I do not mean that I could say it off by 
heart, just as I can my poems; but when I read it afterward 
in type, I recognized each separate word and every phrase 
and all the body of it perfectly. You have it unimpaired. 

When the last word was written — still with my hand 
upon the page, Judge Evelyn chose to say: 

" My friend has wondered why all this has come to her. 
She has a mission-work, wholly apart from this, she tells 
you, — needing to be done." He struck my hand upon the 
writing: "This is her mission-work! There is no way of 
getting funds for all she has to do, save through inventions. 
They will come. These documents are hers; and when the 
time is right, they shall be brought to light." He added : 
" Very soon my friend is going East. She has her work 



304 A Psychic Autobiography 

to do — she will not lack for friends." And so he said his 
final word " Farewell." 

Then Mr. Browne arose and took the written pages — 
every one of them, and walked away. It proves that after 
Frank had copied them, his father sealed them up, — perhaps 
forever. 

When, the next morning, I awoke, it seemed that I must 
leave at once. Announcing this to Mr. Browne, I had a 
sense of earthquake. I sat in utter silence while his under- 
self came uppermost, denouncing me for leaving — demanding 
some addition to the documents. I had no right, he claimed, 
to leave them incomplete. Undoubtedly he felt that they 
belonged to him. Judge Evelyn, he said, should be allowed 
to finish them. By which he meant, as afterward appeared, 
the adding of a clause, approving him as organizer, owner — 
what you will. 

We must not be severe. I think he was persuaded that 
they were truly his. A medium is not supposed to be the 
benefited one; and, I, myself, had not supposed them mine, 
till some few hours before, when they were so pronounced. 

Besides — God help us! Where abide the saints? One 
did abide under the roof that had so sheltered me. I sought 
her out at once. We kissed each other tenderly and did not 
meet again for thirteen years. She visited me then, and 
hearts- were satisfied. 

This human Scripture, who can read it rightly? Who 
can interpret all its secret meanings? Or judge the errant 
wanderings of a soul? 

" But slowly the ineffable light comes up, 
And as it deepens drowns the written word." 




* 



AMANDA T. JONES 



TAKEN IN 1872, JUST 



JSADE DOCUMENTS, 



XXVI 

THE CRUSADE DOCUMENTS. I 

[Appropriated by William Livingston Browne, printed 
and entered according to Act of Congress in the office of the 
Librarian at Washington in the year 1872, under the name 
of " The American Crusade." Debarred from circulation 
and use by legal interference of Judge Edmonds, of New 
York, on behalf of the rightful owner, early in 1873.] 

DECLARATION. 

E believe in the sovereignty of the People. 
We claim for their Hosts all rights which 
are inseparable from the life of responsible 
beings; believing that culture of no avail- 
able kind should be denied them, and no 
honorable means of gaining a subsistence 
placed beyond their reach. 
We therefore protest against all systems of labor and 
modes of conducting trade, which debar the laborer, inventor, 
seller or purchaser, from receiving a just payment for all 
labor, invention, time or investment ; and we hereby pledge 
ourselves to endeavor faithfully to conduce to such an order 
of things as shall secure to each his or her just dues, and at 
the same time rob not the multitude nor enrich the drone. 

So protesting, and so pledging our efforts, we declare our- 
selves to be Crusaders, enlisted in the worthy cause of res- 
cuing the sacred land from selfish monopolies, and once 
more lifting up the standard of the chosen children of God, 
the Workers, that it may float from all the gateways, marts, 
temples, and palaces of the holiest of cities, the City of 
Good-will. 

CRUSADE CONSTITUTION. 

In accordance with the declaration of our sentiments, and 
in pursuance of the good which we believe may in time be 

305 




306 A Psychic Autobiography 

attained through our united efforts, we, Crusaders, do ap- 
prove of, and consent to abide by the following Constitution, 
with its accompanying laws and measures of organization. 



ARTICLE FIRST. 

The power of the Sovereign People composing the Host 
known as Crusaders, shall be vested in : 

A BUREAU OF APPOINTMENT. 
A BUREAU OF ADMINISTRATION. 
A BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION. 

To the Bureau of Appointment shall appertain the 
labors of ratifying all nominations to office, of defining the 
respective duties of officers, apportioning suitable payment 
for their services and sustaining them in the discharge of 
their obligations. It shall have authority in deciding all 
legal and judicial questions, constituting the final court of 
appeals in any or all cases of disagreement and confusion of 
purpose among workers for the commonwealth. It shall be 
composed of ten members, to wit: A judicial head, known 
as Chieftain of Battalions; his assistant justice, designated 
as Marshal of Battalions; two co-laborers, termed Squires; 
and a body-guard of six, called Aides-de-camp. 

To the Bureau of Administration shall belong the 
responsibility of carrying out the designs of the organization 
of Crusaders, maintaining its laws, providing for its needs, 
and jealously protecting the rights of its members. It shall 
be empowered to preserve order and unity, in such ways and 
by such means as shall be pronounced in accordance with the 
true spirit of the Declaration, the Bureau of Appoint- 
ment to be the adjudicator; and it shall be subject to that 
tribunal in all its relations with the Crusade Host. It shall 
consist of sixteen officers, to wit: A President of Councils, 
a Master of Finance, ten Gentlemen of the Council Cham- 
ber, two Scribes, a Bearer of Dispatches, and a Keeper of 
the Seals. 

The Bureau of Investigation shall be empowered to 
sift the claims of all applicants for honors, examine the ac- 



The Crusade Documents 307 

counts of all Crusade recorders, discover any financial de- 
faulter and report him or her to the Bureau of Adminis- 
tration, which shall examine into the demerit, and having 
pronounced its verdict, proceed to yield the case for adjudi- 
cation to the Bureau of Appointment. All matters of 
business requiring official supervision shall first be tendered 
to the Bureau of Investigation, and, after suitable action, 
shall be given to the Bureau of Administration, which 
must conduct them, subject to the sanction of the Bureau 
of Appointment. The Bureau of Investigation shall be 
formed out of the Crusade ranks, and shall have a recog- 
nized head styled Sergeant-General of Crusade Forces. The 
number of his associate Investigators may be limited only by 
the number of enterprises which shall have received the 
authority of the Bureau of Appointment, and been incorpo- 
rated into the Crusade body politic, each enterprise being 
represented by two Investigators. 

These Bureaus shall be acknowledged as the outward 
wall and bulwark of defense for the Crusade Host. Through 
them its material interests will be secured and its masterly 
energy of purpose and labor directed. Their officers shall 
be selected from among those proven to have worthily borne 
the cross of sacrifice, and must be faithful to their high 
calling as gentlemen and Crusaders. They shall be an- 
nually confirmed in office, or others chosen by lot, out of 
the nominated numbers presented to the Bureau of Ap- 
pointment, by the various captains of the banded soldiery, 
through their representatives, the Generals of the united 
battalions. 

article second. 

The Good-will of the Sovereign People known as Cru- 
saders shall find expression in: 

A bureau of education, 
a bureau of assistance, 
A BUREAU of attraction. 

To the Bureau of Education shall belong the privi- 
leges of receiving and entertaining all ideal projects of good, 



308 A Psychic Autobiography 

accepting or refusing them and bringing such as are judged 
feasible before the Crusade multitudes. It shall labor for 
the advancement of Art and Science, the progression of 
thought and truth, and the promulgation of benevolences 
among Crusaders. Its decisions shall be final in all cases 
requiring moral adjudication rather than legal, and it shall 
constitute the Supreme Court, where the higher equities 
shall be considered and pronounced upon. It shall be com- 
posed of ten members, to wit: A Mother of Sciences, A 
Mistress of Instruction, two Dames of Honor, and six La- 
dies in Waiting. 

The Bureau of Assistance shall attend to all solici- 
tations for comfort and material aid received through recog- 
nized Crusade channels, and shall make such responses as 
shall be deemed consistent with the highest requirements of 
the organization. It shall aim to promote the largest lib- 
erty of social life, compatible with unsullied purity and wis- 
dom of behavior. To this end it shall consider and en- 
deavor to supply the necessities of the various associations of 
Crusaders, pronouncing against all violations of propriety, 
and giving sanction to worthy efforts towards reform. It 
shall labor to help the young in acquiring such culture as 
may best fit them for the duties of life and employment, de- 
voting a portion of the funds held for purposes of kindness 
to the children or orphans of poor Crusaders. It shall pre- 
sent its judgments in all matters to the Bureau of Education, 
deferring to its criticisms, decisions and commands. It shall 
be formed of sixteen ladies, to wit: A Dispenser of Benefits, 
a Bearer of the Purse, ten Almoners of Bounty, two Secre- 
taries of the Bank, a Warder of the Gates and a Guardian 
of the Keys. 

The Bureau of Attraction shall devise and promote 
recreations, organize classes, select instructors, suggest stud- 
ies, and report progress of education to the Bureau of As- 
sistance. It shall lend countenance to any laudable social 
movement, and support the leaders of approved Crusade pur- 
suits. It shall discover disturbers of tranquility and such 
moral offenders as are amenable to Good-will tribunals, but 
not liable to legal arraignment. Such cases it shall refer to 
the Bureau of Assistance, which shall investigate each 



The Crusade Documents 309 

offence, presenting it, with any extenuations that may have 
been elicited from testimony, to the Bureau of Education for 
adjudication. The Bureau of Attraction shall have an 
acknowledged head, styled the Conductor of Harmonies. 
Her associate members shall be limited by the number of 
Crusade battalions, each battalion being represented by two 
ladies, who shall be denominated Sisters of the Choir. 

These Bureaus shall be regarded as the inner citadel 
and stronghold of the Crusade Host, and it shall be the 
foremost thought among Crusaders how best to preserve 
this tower of Good-will from overthrow, and its hospitable 
board and hearth from defilement and desecration. Their 
officers shall be of those whom the people regard as blame- 
less, and must be worthy of the lofty trust so reposed in 
them. They shall be annually confirmed in office, or their 
places filled by such as shall be chosen by lot, out of the 
nominated numbers forwarded to the Bureau of Appoint- 
ment by the various Guides of the banded soldiery, through 
their representatives, the Governing Ladies of the united 
battalions. 

article third. 

Inasmuch as all elements should mingle and blend in har- 
monious and healthful interchange, the forces of the Crusade 
Army should acknowledge the influence of their inspirers, 
the ministering rulers of the mind and heart; and the Edu- 
cators should, in their turn, revere and worthily regard the 
soldiers of the Host who stand without the temple, wrest- 
ing from the material world the sustenance for all, which 
none can forego. 

Therefore, the Bureau of Appointment and the 
Bureau of Education shall constantly communicate with 
each other, asking and receiving counsel, assisting to arrive 
at perfect conclusions, and in no wise holding such mutual 
exchanges in light esteem. Twice in each month these 
bureaus shall resolve themselves into one, deliberating upon 
the most important questions that have been presented to 
either body. Over such meetings the chief officers of both 
Bureaus shall preside in alternation and shall maintain order 
without respect to person or sex. 



310 A Psychic Autobiography 

Also, the Bureau of Administration and the Bureau 
of Assistance shall at the same intervals unite in common 
deliberation, reporting the results of their conferences to the 
united Bureaus of Appointment and Education with- 
out delay. 

Also, the Bureau of Investigation, comprising its 
chief and ten delegates from the body of its investigators, 
(annually chosen by lot) and the Bureau of Attraction, 
consisting of its chief and ten delegates from the Sisters of 
the Choir, (annually chosen by lot) shall unite semi-monthly 
with mutual interests, each giving its matters full unfolding 
before the resolved Bureau. The result of their combined 
deliberations shall be given without delay to the resolved 
Bureau of Administration and Assistance, which shall 
in its turn refer them, after suitable action, to the resolved 
Bureau of Appointment and Education. 

In addition to these deliberative meetings, there shall be 
four gatherings in each year of all these Bureaus, resolved 
into one body for mutual suggestion and legislation. On 
such occasions the presiding officer shall be chosen by lot 
from among the six chiefs of the several Bureaus; and the 
chosen President shall preserve order without deference to 
rank or sex. 

The people shall be at liberty to present for the considera- 
tion of this assembly, any petition or suggestion or general 
complaint, without resorting to official interposition; and no 
such petition, suggestion or complaint, accompanied by a con- 
siderable number of names, shall be lightly set aside without 
action. 

All these deliberations of single or united Bureaus shall 
be open to the public whenever there is discussion of abstract 
principles or Crusade legislation. If, however, the matters 
under consideration relate to the misdoings of any Cru- 
sader., there shall be no publicity; nor shall the people be 
informed of any personal investigation, not formally de- 
manded by them, unless it results in partial condemnation or 
expulsion from their ranks. If any woman shall be found 
guilty of unlawful dealing in any Crusade business, her fault 
shall be stated to the Bureau of Education, (after the 
usual formalities of trial) and her sentence pronounced by 



The Crusade Documents 311 

that tribunal, that she may be judged by her own sex. If 
any man shall be proven guilty of misdemeanor among Cru- 
sade Associations the Bureau of Education shall transfer 
his case to the Bureau of Appointment, that his sentence 
may be pronounced by his fellows. Nevertheless, where the 
fault or faults have transgressed both the civil law and the 
higher equity, the decision shall be rendered by the united 
Bureaus of Appointment and Education, and expulsion 
or deprivation of honor receive the sanction of the highest 
tribunal of the Crusade Host. 

There shall be three additional responsible bodies, to wit: 

A bureau of publication, 

A BUREAU OF EMPLOYMENT, 
A BUREAU OF REGISTRATION. 

To the Bureau of Publication shall attach the duty 
of fitly and in all cases truthfully, representing Crusade mat- 
ters to the world whenever they shall have received official 
approval. It shall proclaim all news that should interest 
Crusaders, relative to the Host, shall place the issues at 
stake before them as clearly as possible, and uphold the 
highest conceivable standard of right, whether of earthly or 
divine law. To these ends it shall issue, at least once in 
every month, a printed sheet called " The American Cru- 
sader," and shall endeavor to place it before every member 
of the Host. It shall consist of not less than five men and 
five women, with a recognized head of either sex, who shall 
be styled Mentor of the staff. Whenever the business of 
the Bureau shall increase beyond the possibility of accom- 
plishment by such a force, it shall be augmented sufficiently. 

The Bureau of Employment shall have special charge 
of the working department of the organization, providing, as 
far as possible, all applying Crusaders with employment, and 
in no case allowing insufficient payment for labor well per- 
formed, of whatever sex, race or age the laborer may be. It 
shall connect itself directly with all manufactories, stores, 
shops, or schools, which are the outgrowth of Crusade enter- 
prise, and its authority shall not be gainsaid among them. 
Nevertheless it shall report its decisions to the Bureau of 



312 A Psychic Autobiography 

Publication, stating exactly what wages are received by 
operatives of every class, that it may so be held open to 
public censure or approval. It shall consist of an active 
corps of ten Advisers, headed by an officer styled Commander 
of Trades. These men shall execute the decisions of the 
Bureau. There shall be a reserve corps of ten women 
Advisers, having a chief lady, called Accorder of Justice. 
The reserve corps shall allow no matter designed for adjust- 
ment by the Bureau of Employment to pass unconsidered, 
and they shall guard the interests of the working class from 
all unrighteous encroachment. If the business operations of 
the Host extend beyond possibility of diligent supervision by 
these numbers, assistants shall be granted them, who shall, 
however, have no voice in the Councils, nor vote in the de- 
cisions of the Bureau. 

To the Bureau of Registration shall be conveyed 
promptly the name of every Crusader, of whatever age, race 
or sex, with such particulars as shall serve to identify said 
Crusader. Such registration shall then be certified to, and 
the recruit be duly supplied with a certificate of membership, 
and a legal recognition of his or her rights, acquired by vir- 
tue of enlistment in the Crusade Host. 

The books of Registration shall be open to all necessary 
inspection, and a report of added recruits (in numbers, if not 
by name), shall be daily sent to the chief of the Bureau of 
Public ation, to be summed up and published in each issue 
of " The American Crusader." In every instance where 
the Bureau of Employment shall provide a Crusader 
with work, the name of said Crusader shall be copied from 
the books of registration and preserved among the archives 
of the Bureau, that its effective operation for good may be 
readily ascertained, and frequently published to the people. 
This Bureau shall comprise a Janitor and as many assist- 
ants as he may require to perfectly transact the business ap- 
pertaining to the office. 

article fourth. 

The Crusade elements being recognized, ana harmonious 
blending insured, these objects and only these shall be pro- 
nounced legitimate Crusade work, to wit: 



The Crusade Documents 313 

The proper payment of labor, the equitable distribution of 
capital, the protection of manufacture and just liberty of 
trade, the education of the young, the improvement of the 
mature and the tender support of the infirm; the enhancing 
of innocent pleasures, the promotion of social security, the 
cultivation of the higher nature, and the deepening and 
broadening of the currents of human sympathy and love; 
the advancement of temperance, the increase of wisdom, and 
finally, the complete assenting of the human race to divine 
and beneficent law. To this end, we, as Crusaders, agree 
to embark heartily in such enterprises, material, benevolent 
or aesthetic, as promise to promote the objects above specified, 
and we subscribe willingly to the following rules and meas- 
ures of action, believing them well worthy of examination 
and persistent trial. 

RULES GOVERNING MATERIAL ENTERPRISES. 

Every Inventor, Artist, Author, Manufacturer and Ven- 
der of Wares, may be placed, at his own solicitation, under 
the Protection of the Crusade Host, receiving the assistance 
and cordial co-operation of Crusade officers and people in 
circulating his or her inventions, works or wares, upon strict 
Crusade principles. 

The inventor shall yield his right to the sale of territory, 
promising to abide by the Crusade Constitution. For this 
concession he shall be announced to the Bureau of In- 
vestigation as a candidate for the Honors of the Host. 
When said Bureau shall have decided upon the acceptance 
of his invention as a veritable means of assisting the work, 
increasing the wealth, or enhancing the legitimate enjoyment 
of the world, his case shall be reported forthwith to the 
Bureau of Administration, which shall induct him into 
his place as one of the leaders of the van, introducing him 
as such to the Bureau of Appointment. He shall then 
be formally announced to Crusaders under the sign and 
seal of the Crusade Host, kept by the Bureau of Appoint- 
ment and the Bureau of Education alone; and his name 
shall be immediately transmitted to the Bureau of Publi- 
cation. A careful account of his invention, divested of ex- 



314 A Psychic Autobiography 

aggerated praise, but wholly indicating its merits, shall be 
immediately published in " The American Crusader." 
Appended thereto shall appear as exact a statement as pos- 
sible of the actual cost of the manufactured article, including 
material, oversight, labor and transportation, with the de- 
cision of the investigating committee as to its fair market 
value. To the actual cost shall be added one-fourth that 
sum as provision for all contingencies, modifications of prices 
current, losses by fire or other destructive agents, robberies 
or injuries of machinery used in its manufacture. The in- 
ventor, or any desirable number of agents, selected by the 
committee of investigation, or at least approved by them, 
may be employed in the active labor of soliciting purchasers; 
in which case to the above united sum shall be added ten 
per cent of the current price of the invented article, where- 
with to meet all expenses incurred by travel of the solicitors. 
A similar percentage shall be paid to such agents as emolu- 
ment for their time and efforts, and a percentage of not less 
than three nor more than five shall be paid to the inventor 
as his royalty. The sum remaining after these sums shall 
have been subtracted from the market price, shall be ac- 
counted as so much stock owned by the purchaser in the 
enterprise, constituting him or her a member of the Crusade 
Host, and an ultimate sharer of the divided spoils won by 
this most righteous warfare. When the invention shall be 
called for by the people, without the intervention of travel- 
ling solicitors, the percentages set aside for their travel and 
wages, shall be duly invested under the supervision of the 
Master of Finance and declared devoted to purposes of kind- 
ness. Also, whenever the cost of manufacture shall at the 
end of the year be found to have been less than the an- 
nounced sum, the surplus monies shall be disposed of in the 
same manner. Also, when the time has legally expired, 
during which the inventor can claim his royalty, that amount 
shall still be paid in by the purchaser and be in like manner 
invested. The Good-will Fund so obtained shall be guarded 
by the Bureau of Administration, and at the proper 
time tendered to the Bureau of Assistance, for disburse- 
ments in benevolences. 

These monies shall not, however, be given to any Crusade 



The Crusade Documents 315 

charity outside of the limits of the stock-holders in the enter- 
prise which furnished them, that only purchasers and their 
heirs may reap the benefits accruing from such investments. 

Nor shall any of the funds, devoted to kindness, be dis- 
bursed under ten years from the date of the acceptance of 
the invention, which forms the pivot of said enterprise, by 
the Bureau of Appointment. At the end of that time 
each company united in the manufacture or sale of such in- 
vention and all possessing stock in the enterprise, shall be at 
liberty to report all truly necessitous cases within its bounds, 
specifying the necessity, whether of widowhood, orphanage, 
sickness, physical disability or mental incompetency. 

To these reports, properly substantiated and conveyed, the 
Bureau of Assistance shall not fail to make response, 
supplying each needy person with an exact and due propor- 
tion of the equitably divided funds. Each six months there- 
after a similar distribution shall take place, adding to the list 
of applicants for benefits any that in the meantime may have 
been announced as worthy, and erasing all whose necessities 
have been removed. It shall be the business of the Investi- 
gators of the enterprise to discover any failure in the receipt 
of these Good-will monies, and to bring the defaulters 
promptly to justice. They shall moreover hold themselves 
responsible for the safe conduct of these received funds, 
which must be placed in the hands of the Master of Finance, 
subject to the control of the Bureau of Administration, 
until remitted to the Bureau of Assistance, and placed in 
the keeping of the Bearer of the Purse. 

A full report of their matters shall be sent by the Investi- 
gators to the Bureau of Publication, as often as once in 
every month. A separate report of monies accounted for 
and received shall be forwarded to the same by the President 
of Councils; and a certificate as to the amount tendered 
for good-will purposes, furnished by the Dispenser of Bene- 
fits. If in the smallest fraction these three reports shall ex- 
hibit discrepancy, the most explicit examination shall be had 
and the error corrected. The Bearer of the Purse shall 
draw from the fund in her charge, no amount whatever upon 
any demand, without declaring such withdrawal to the Secre- 
taries of the Bank, who shall not fail to record all particu- 



316 A Psychic Autobiography 

lars connected with such disbursement in the books of the 
Bureau. 

The monies paid in by the purchasers, constituting their 
share in the stock of any enterprise, shall be received by the 
Master of Finance, or accounted for to him, and they shall 
only be expended under his approval and the sanction of the 
Inventor and the Investigators of the enterprise. They may 
be expended in the building of manufactories, store-houses, 
sales-rooms, or in purchasing any manner of real-estate as 
near the vicinity of the purchaser of the stock as possible. 
All such real-estate shall be held in the name of the Crusade 
Host, subject to Crusade oversight, and shall be sold on no 
consideration, whatever, (unless as an exchange for other 
real-estate equally as desirable) until the universal disburse- 
ment of property values, at the close of the term for which 
the patent is held. If, when the time for such disbursement 
shall come, the holders of stock shall prefer to leave their 
dividends for further increase, the business shall be carried 
on as before, except that any stock-owner shall be at liberty 
to call for his share after each half-yearly appraisal of prop- 
erties. 

At the expiration of the term covered by the patent-right, 
all real-estate held by the Crusade body politic in the inter- 
ests of the stockholders of said patent, shall be justly ap- 
praised and the amount due each one announced, that it may 
be reclaimed, if so desired. All the purchasers of the first 
year of the term shall be entitled to a bonus of three per 
cent above those of the second year, those of the second year 
above those of the third and so on. 

Great care shall be had in the purchase of real-estate with 
invested funds, that it may be of the full value of the amount 
expended in its purchase, and promise increase of value with 
each succeeding year. Such real-estate shall be under the 
immediate care of the nearest band of Crusaders, who shall 
regard it as the representation of their interests and the in- 
terests of all stockholders. Taxes shall be paid thereupon 
out of the funds derived from rentals and other returns from 
real-estate connected with the same enterprise. All such 
returns shall be paid into the hands of the Investigators and 
be strictly accounted for by them, both to those remitting 



The Crusade Documents 317 

such returns and to the Bureau of Administration, 
through their chief, the Sergeant-General of Crusade Forces. 
When any purchaser of an article so patented and adopted 
by the Crusade Host, declines to be considered a member of 
the organization, and does not, therefore, claim his share in 
the common stock, said share shall be deposited in the Public 
Treasury as a portion of the Government Fund. If not re- 
quired for the maintenance of the Crusade Government, it 
shall be distributed in pensions to such laborers as have been 
maimed or injured in the manufacture of said article, or to 
their widows, orphans or heirs immediately dependent on 
them for support. 

Also, when any owner of shares shall have died without 
particularizing as to the disposal of his dues, they shall be 
paid, at the proper time, to his nearest heirs, unless such 
shall be no nearer than cousin-german, in which case the 
share or shares (which must in no case exceed five in any 
single enterprise) will revert, by virtue of his consent to the 
rules here given, to the Public Treasury. When the term 
of the patent-right shall have expired, the shares for which 
no owner can be discovered nor any heir entitled to them, 
shall be paid over to the Public Treasury, within a period 
of not less than six months from the time of general dis- 
bursement; and whenever thereafter any owner shall fail to 
attend to his claim for a period of five years, it shall be for- 
feited to the same fund, provided that he be semi-yearly in- 
vited to substantiate it until the expiration of that time. 
Any purchaser who is already a Crusader, and does not 
care for the value of his interests in any enterprise, may 
assign his share to any fund held for purposes of kindness, 
within the limits of said enterprise, or may present it to any 
individual, or may order it placed in the Public Treasury, he 
being afterward duly accredited, and informed of its accept- 
ance and safe conduct. 

There shall be a distinction between educational and ma- 
terial enterprises, inasmuch as the former must have passed 
the tribunal of the Bureau of Attraction, being accepted 
by the Bureau of Assistance and authorized by the Bu- 
reau of Education, before being placed in the care and 



318 A Psychic Autobiography 

under the government of the Crusade Host, to be conducted 
on strict Crusade principles. 

Any author or artist desirous of obtaining Crusade author- 
ity as to the merits of any work or works, shall resign his 
right to public or private sales, or any exhibition of said 
work or works. For this resignation he shall receive official 
guarantee of the best assistance of the Crusade Government. 
From three to five per cent of all receipts from sales or exhi- 
bitions, or from lithographs or other copies of works of art, 
or from any method of circulation whatever, shall be paid 
to said author, or artist, for a term of twenty years from the 
date of his connection in that capacity with the Crusade 
body politic, or to his heirs. The Government of the or- 
ganization shall have no right to dispose of any copyright or 
original work of art by direct sale to any person or body of 
persons, whatever, but shall use all diligence in bringing 
said book or work of art, as a veritable means of education, 
before the Crusade Host. No further percentages shall be 
paid to any but authorized agents, who must submit full 
accounts of sales or receipts from exhibition to the Sisters 
of the Choir in each Crusade district where such sales or 
receipts shall have taken place, and also to the author or 
artist concerned. These accounts must be tendered intact 
by the chief of the Bureau of Attraction to the Bureau 
of Assistance, and after their approval, be referred to the 
Bureau of Education. If they shall be found not to 
coincide with the accounts kept by the Investigators of each 
particular enterprise (to whom the agent must also be held 
accountable), an immediate investigation shall be had, and 
if a defaulter be found, he shall be punished according to 
Crusade legislation. 

All monies collected through such enterprises, after the 
full expense of conducting them shall have been met, shall 
be expended under the supervision of both Investigators and 
Sisters of the Choir, in the purchase and fitting up of halls 
for meetings, lectures, etc., and in the procuring of libraries, 
paintings, statues or any educational appliances approved by 
the Bureau of Education. Such appliances shall be free 
to all Crusaders, but if enjoyed by any outside of the Host, 
shall be paid for at a moderate rate. 



The Crusade Documents 319 

Any body of Crusaders may solicit the original of any 
work of art, so committed to the care of the administration, 
and may hold it on exhibition for a period of not more than 
five weeks (unless there should be no other demand for it). 
If the exhibition thereof shall be announced as a specialty, 
the funds gathered in by said exhibition shall be considered 
as belonging rightfully to that particular enterprise, though 
other works of art be on exhibition at the same time and 
place, so long as it be quite certain that said work is a 
special attraction, unless that time shall exceed four weeks. 
No Crusader shall be admitted free to such special exhi- 
bition, unless actively engaged in pushing the enterprise. 

When art exhibitions are general in their scope, each work 
of art shall have accredited to it a due share of the receipts 
accruing from such general exhibition, accounting it to have 
a fixed money value, which shall have been previously de- 
termined by the decision of selected judges, and assented to 
by the artists. 

If any work of art be not original, but a copy only of 
some original work, it may at the copyist's desire be sold 
outright at a fair price, and become the permanent property 
of any band of Crusaders so purchasing it; nor can such 
be placed in the list of works adopted by the Crusade Host, 
and subject to official oversight and legislation. The galler- 
ies of art, which consist entirely of works actually belonging 
to the Crusade camps, shall be open to all Crusaders; nor 
shall any work therein be disposed of, unless by voluntary 
desire of, at least, two-thirds of the band so owning it. 

If, in any case, the artist, whose work has been legally 
accepted, shall desire its removal from one Crusade camp to 
another, the holders thereof shall be bound to comply with 
his demand, even though they have held such work but a 
portion of the time allotted, provided the expense of trans- 
fer, fitting up and announcement shall have been fully met 
and no public disappointment be likely to follow. The ar- 
tist may accompany his work if he prefer, having his ex- 
penses paid out of its receipts, but receiving no further re- 
muneration, unless his services shall have been pronounced 
a necessity, in which case he shall also be paid such a sum as 
shall equal that already allotted him for said expenses. 



320 A Psychic Autobiography 

Nor shall he in any case receive further payment than the 
two equal sums specified and the percentage of receipts be- 
fore agreed upon between himself and the Crusade Govern- 
ment. If his expenses happen to be lightened through hospi- 
talities, however, he shall not, therefore, be mulcted in the 
payment therefor, but shall receive the full amount pre- 
scribed as sufficient to meet all contingencies. Any necessary 
agent of said artist shall be paid at similar rates, deducting 
the artist's percentage. 

Any public singer, actor, reader, lecturer or teacher, hav- 
ing been approved of and accepted by the Bureau of 
Education, shall receive a Crusade welcome at every camp, 
where he or she may call, provided the leader of the camp 
shall have been notified of the call, and shall have signified a 
willingness to receive it. Any such friend having been re- 
ceived, shall be courteously attended to, and shall receive a 
sufficient amount of the monies gathered in through his 
efforts, to pay all expenses of board, travel, etc., (not allow- 
ing for hospitalities), and a sum equal to said amount as a 
return for his services. Added to this, when all expense 
attending such exhibitions, entertainments, lectures or in- 
structions shall have been fully met, not less than one-half 
of the sum remaining out of the receipts (if there be such a 
sum) shall be paid to the visitor, unless such half shall be 
found to greatly exceed what might reasonably be exacted. 

No person devoting himself or herself to the instruction 
and amusement of the Crusade people shall be allowed to 
receive such slight returns that he may not have any desir- 
able means of self-cultivation open to him; nor, on the other 
hand, must useless extravagance of supply be demanded. The 
amount deemed necessary to enable every such person to live 
enjoyably and sociably with the world at large, retaining a 
sufficient fund for ordinary emergencies, shall therefore be 
fixed by the Bureau of Employment; and whatever 
monies he or she may receive above that sum, (as direct 
payment for labor) shall be refunded by him or her to said 
Bureau, and given in turn to such as shall have been under- 
paid. If receipts from such sources are found to be in- 
sufficient for that purpose, the Bureau shall levy taxes upon 
such Crusade camps as have a surplus of funds derived 



The Crusade Documents 321 

directly from the labors of such persons, and shall transmit 
the lacking monies to the underpaid laborers. 

If any man or woman, so employed, shall be found to be 
unacceptable in his Crusade relations, the Bureau of At- 
traction shall report the case to the Bureau of Assist- 
ance, and after due investigation, it shall be referred to the 
Bureau of Education, which shall solicit formal with- 
drawal of the unacceptable person, or in extreme cases, re- 
sort to expulsion from the Crusade field. 

Any manufacturer, importer, or vender of wares may 
throw his articles into Crusade markets, establishing or per- 
mitting to be established, depots of trade, subject entirely to 
Crusade jurisdiction. In such cases some Crusader shall be 
selected by the people to oversee all arrivals of goods, ap- 
praise them, and with competent assistance, fix their market 
value. 

Said manufacturer, importer or trader, shall permit full 
investigation of the cost of his goods, including transporta- 
tion and indispensable incidentals, receiving payment there- 
for and a bonus of ten per cent of that sum in addition. His 
goods shall then be sold at Crusade depots at the lowest 
market price, to all persons not connected with the Crusade 
Host, and to Crusaders themselves at actual cost, after all 
expenses of sale shall have been met. The profits derived 
from the sales of all goods at market value, shall be used in 
extending the facilities of trade, increasing warehouses, store- 
rooms, etc. If such profits be not sufficient to meet the 
actual requirements of the business, the people may supply 
funds directly, or pay a certain established profit upon their 
purchases, until the necessity be removed. 

Any manufacturer, importer or trader may employ agents 
or investigators at his own expense, and the people may have 
the same privilege; the Crusade Government to be the um- 
pire in all cases of difficulty, having first given official sanc- 
tion to the connection between its people and said trader, 
importer or manufacturer. 



XXVII 




THE CRUSADE DOCUMENTS. II 

RULES AND MEASURES OF ORGANIZATION. 

N the organization of the Host of Cru- 
saders, three grand classes or orders shall 
be recognized, to wit: 

AN ORDER OF HONOR: 
AN ORDER OF BESTOWAL: 
AN ORDER OF INHERITANCE . 

The Order of Honor shall comprise all instigators to 
labor and thought among the people, approved and accepted 
by Crusade authorities; as Inventors, Authors, Artists, 
Teachers, Entertainers and projectors of Good. 

No payment of monies shall be required to constitute such 
persons Crusaders, but each, upon adoption into the Host, 
shall receive his certificate of honorary connection therewith 
from the Bureau of Appointment or the Bureau of 
Education under their sign and seal. The holders of such 
certificates shall be entitled to a certain just share of the 
public funds set aside for purposes of kindness, after the ex- 
penses of Government shall have been met, provided their 
necessities are proven ; or their heirs, dependent upon them 
for support, shall receive said share, upon their demise, 
premising that they are in actual want. If, however, there be 
no necessity, whatever, such a portion of the funds as shall 
have been collected through the agency of the members of 
the Order, shall, at the end of twenty years from the date 
of the opening of the Crusade Books of Registration, be 
equitably divided among them, or their immediate heirs; 
and thereafter half-yearly payments shall be made to the 
same persons (on demand only) from the same funds. Any 
member of the Order or any heir, may, if he choose, return 
his unneeded share to the Treasury for redistribution among 

322 



The Crusade Documents 323 

the truly necessitous of the Order; or he may select some 
particular individual, whether he be a Crusader or not, to 
whom the amount must be given ; constituting that individual 
his legal heir of that or any further benefits to be derived 
from such distributions. 

Upon the demise of any member, a delegation of members 
from the nearest Crusade camp, shall ascertain the circum- 
stances of his or her family, and afford relief, if such be 
required, by appeal to the Bureau of Assistance, through 
the Bureau of Attraction. The Bureau of Assist- 
ance shall at once inform the holders of the public funds 
and shall receive from them such monies as may righteously 
be given, without transgression of Crusade law, for trans- 
mission to the sufferers. Records of all such assistance shall 
be kept rigorously, and each transmitter of monies held 
personally responsible, so far as his trust extends. 

To the Order of Bestowal shall belong all such as 
choose to present monies to the organization, provided the 
gift shall be not less than one dollar. Upon the presenta- 
tion of such monies, each Bestower shall receive a certificate 
of connection with the Crusade Host, the amount of his gift 
being specified, both in his certificate and upon the books of 
registration. All such monies shall be added to the Cru- 
sade Public Treasury, subject to withdrawal to meet Gov- 
ernment expenses and to distribution among Crusade benevo- 
lences. Each member of the Order shall be entitled to a 
share of said fund (proportionate to his gift) whenever he 
shall become disabled and poor; or said share shall be paid 
to his heirs, after his demise, if such shall have been, of ne- 
cessity, dependent upon him for support. No monies shall 
be withdrawn, however, from the bestowed funds, except 
for government expenses, under five years from the date of 
the opening of the books of Registration belonging to the 
Crusade Host. At the end of that time, accounts shall be 
adjusted and the amount remaining, subject to calls from 
sufferers, published to the people. — At the end of every half 
year thereafter, a similar adjustment and distribution shall 
take place. 

The Order of Inheritance shall comprise all such per- 
sons as have connected themselves with the Crusade Host, 



324 A Psychic Autobiography 

by the purchase of a share in the stock of any enterprise sus- 
tained by that body and used as a means for the accumula- 
tion of real estate, provided the sum so invested by the pur- 
chaser shall be not less than one dollar. 

The members of this Order shall have no rights of in- 
heritance outside of the enterprise or enterprises in which 
they may have invested; but there shall be no limit to the 
number of such enterprises, in which their interests may be 
represented. Inheritance secures for them a just and in- 
controvertible title to their share of all distributed funds 
arising from the schemes to which they have contributed by 
investment, and gives the same to their admitted heirs, after 
their demise. It gives them, also, or their heirs, a right to 
such a portion of the relief monies, as they may be rightfully 
entitled to, if they are known to be really necessitous. 

The interests of all these Classes or Orders, shall be 
guarded on every hand, and immediate trial and expulsion 
follow any attempt, within the boundaries of the Host, to 
rob a single Crusader cf his or her right to any monies, 
either as immediate or prospective payment. 

The Bureau of Investigation shall guard the rights 
of all Inheritors, through its great body of Investigators. 

The Bureau of Attraction shall secure the privileges 
of all Bestowers, through the vigilance of its Sisterhood. 

The Bureaus of Appointment and Education shall 
see to it that the members of the Order of Honor are 
mulcted in none of their rights and privileges; calling upon 
all officers on guard, to advise them, through their respective 
Bureaus of Administration and Assistance, of all at- 
tempts to wrong said members, and promptly rebuking such 
as so offend. 

The Bureau of Publication shall openly represent the 
interests of all, sifting carefully all matters presented by the 
People for publication in the Crusade organ, and rejecting 
none without sufficient examination of its sources and de- 
signs. 

The Bureau of Employment shall faithfully guard the 
interests of all persons supplied with the means of subsist- 
ence through Crusade enterprises; and shall permit no Mas- 
ter of Manufactories or Director of Works of any kind, to 



The Crusade Documents 325 

lessen the salaries or wages, pronounced equitable by said 
Bureau. All its decisions respecting the sums earned by 
operatives of every class, shall be communicated to the 
Bureau of Publication, that there be no misunderstand- 
ing; and all laborers will be desired to appeal at once to the 
Bureau so guarding them, for redress, if robbed of any 
portion of their hardly-earned monies. 

Immediate expulsion from the Crusade ranks shall follow 
the discovery of any Director of laborers, guilty of with- 
holding even the smallest fraction of their salaries or wages. 

All minor laws and observances shall be settled by the 
General Council of the six Bureaus designated as compos- 
ing said Council, at their quarter-yearly assemblages, unless 
they are merely local or quite trivial in their nature. 

Official salaries shall be paid out of the Public Treasury, 
and shall be sufficiently liberal to enable the Officers of the 
Host to maintain comfortable households, allowing for the 
increased expenditures due to their position, and indispens- 
able to a proper fulfilment of Crusade duties and hospitali- 
ties. The amount of their salaries shall be fixed by the 
Bureau of Appointment, published in The American 
Crusader, and criticised at will by the People, who may, 
at any time, enter a formal protest at the General Council 
Chamber, against the doings and decisions of any or all of 
the Bureaus governing them as Crusaders. Any such 
protest shall be faithfully attended to by the assembled body 
of Councillors, whose verdict for or against such protest 
shall be immediately published in the Crusade organ. 

The public funds shall be continually accounted for to the 
respective Bureaus. Each month a strict report shall be 
forwarded to each Bureau of all monies received, their 
source being indicated ; and all such reports when accepted, 
shall be published in the Crusade organ. The reports of 
all the Bureaus shall be compared at the Bureau of Pub- 
lication and if there be any discrepancy, the People shall 
have a right to demand an immediate investigation thereof. 

Each fraction received by the holders of the public funds, 
shall be reported in its due time and place, and every fraction 
required for whatever purpose. The accounts of the public 
Treasury shall in this manner be laid open to the examina- 



326 A Psychic Autobiography 

tion of the whole Crusade Host, each member of which is, 
in some measure, responsible for the safe-keeping and right- 
ful conduct and expenditure of such monies. 

A General Treasurer shall be annually appointed or con- 
firmed in office, by the Bureau of Administration, sub- 
ject to the assent of the General Council. He shall be em- 
powered to employ as many assistants as he shall require, 
out of the numbers recommended to him by the leaders of 
the Crusade soldiery. The payment of such assistants, to- 
gether with that of all employees of the Host not actually 
in office, shall be apportioned to them by the Bureau of 
Employment and paid out of the public monies. 

All monies held in the public Treasury after the require- 
ments of government shall have been met, shall be subject 
to calls of kindness, proceeding from recognized Crusade 
sources. 

The General Treasurer may, however, decline to distrib- 
ute so much as to leave the Treasury empty; retaining al- 
ways an amount that shall be judged sufficient to meet the 
entire expenses of the Government for one year in advance; 
except in cases of great public distress, when he may deliver 
the whole reserve fund, at the demand of the General Coun- 
cil, whether such demand shall proceed from that body at its 
regular assemblage or at any special convention of its mem- 
bers. 

The particular objects for which the public fund, in all 
its divisions, may be used, shall be specified by the General 
Council, and announced to the People, with all other doings 
of that body, through the Crusade organ of publication. 

Any monies, collected through the various enterprises of 
the Host, for purposes of kindness, shall be deposited for 
safe keeping in the public Treasury, and kept separate from 
all other monies, that no confusion of accounts may arise. 
Records of all such deposits shall be placed in the hands of 
the General Treasurer, and he shall be notified of any with- 
drawal of monies. 

Immediately before opening the public Bank, each morn- 
ing, dispatches shall be sent to the Chiefs of the Bureau of 
Administration and Assistance, stating the exact amount 
received the previous day, and the amount disbursed, to- 



The Crusade Documents 327 

gether with an exact statement of the amounts remaining in 
the Treasury, whether such amounts belong to the public 
fund, or to the funds deposited by the Investigators of the 
various enterprises. Accompanying such dispatches shall be 
a correct account of the sources of all received monies, and 
of the purposes to which all disbursed sums were to be ap- 
plied. Receipts shall be forwarded, at the same time, from 
every individual into whose hands disbursed monies shall 
have been delivered, and similar receipts shall be retained 
by the Bank. 

If there be anything suspicious in said dispatches, the 
Chiefs of said Bureaus shall make diligent comparison be- 
tween them and the accounts also received daily from the 
Bureau of Investigation, and cause to be sifted every 
evidence bearing upon the case, that the fault, if any, may 
fee discovered. Otherwise such reports shall be summed 
up, and referred to the upper Bureaus in their appropriate 
time and order. 

That there may be less confusion of accounts, and to 
maintain the greatest possible simplicity of detail, there 
shall be no invention accepted by the Host, as a basis for 
the accumulation of joint stock real-estate, which cannot 
justly allow so large an investment by each purchaser thereof, 
as one dollar; but all smaller invented articles shall be ac- 
cepted upon the definite terms hereinbefore stated, subject 
to Crusade oversight and jurisdiction; the inventor receiv- 
ing his royalties therefor, and the agents their due percent- 
ages. The purchaser, however, shall yield his right to the 
surplus monies, which shall be regularly paid, and all the 
funds so collected, be deposited in the Treasury, through the 
proper channels of delivery, to be withdrawn only at the 
instance of the Bureau of Education and used for no 
purpose other than the establishment and maintenance of 
institutions for the aged, sick, blind, deaf, dumb, crippled, 
orphaned, insane, or idiotic. 

The inventor of any such article so disposed of among 
Crusaders., may specify the particular benevolence to which 
such surplus funds shall be devoted. Monies paid by pur- 
chasers over the cost of the article (including all expense of 
sales and royalties), shall not be given into the hands of 



328 A Psychic Autobiography 

agents, but having been ascertained to agree with their ac- 
counts of sales, shall be tendered to the Sisters of the Choir, 
for safe conduct to the Treasury. 

Definite reports from both Agents and Sisters shall there- 
after be conveyed to the Bureau of Investigation and 
Attraction, and compared, that any discrepancy be de- 
tected. 

The Bureau of Publication shall be accorded the as- 
sistance of a publishing board of three, (of either sex), 
whose duty it shall be to conduct the monetary affairs of 
the Bureau, continually keeping its accounts open to in- 
spection, and rendering weekly reports to the authorized 
Investigators of the concern. Their work shall begin with 
the issuing of the Crusade Documents in any form deemed 
advisable; and the printing of certificates of Crusade Mem- 
bership, and diplomas giving authority to Recruiting Offi- 
cers. As soon as possible, " The American Crusader " 
shall appear, having been as widely announced as prac- 
ticable. 

Subscriptions thereto may be taken in advance, the sub- 
scription price being reasonably low. To aid in these mat- 
ters, the monies derived from actual gift, shall be used first; 
those so giving, receiving their certificates as members of the 
Order of Bestowal. When the monetary affairs of the 
Bureau shall have become free and prosperous, all monies 
not required for the above-mentioned purposes, including 
payments of working persons and officials, shall be used in 
extending the facilities of publication, and issuing the best 
standard works, which shall be furnished to all Crusaders 
at the simple cost of manufacture, storage, transportation 
and incidental expenses, with the addition of ten per cent 
of said cost, to enable the Bureau to still further increase 
its business. 

As often as ten members shall have been received into 
the ranks, by any one official authorized to recruit, their 
names shall be transmitted, with all necessary adjunctive 
information, to the Bureau of Registration. 

The Recruiting Officers shall place all monies paid in 
by the recruits as Bestowals or Investments, at the disposal 
of the Master of Finance, who shall be speedily informed by 



The Crusade Documents 329 

the Bureau of Investigation of the reports made to 
them by such officers, that there be no withholding of money 
received; and both accounts must be confirmed by inspec- 
tion of the books of registration. When one hundred re- 
cruits shall have been obtained within a limit of five miles 
square, such recruits shall be formally organized into a 
Company, headed by a Captain, and an associate Lady 
styled a Guide. At the need of said Company, lesser officers 
may be selected to assist in transacting the business, or sus- 
taining the meetings, of the membership. 

All persons thereafter recruited within said limits, may 
attach themselves to the original Company, or remain in 
bands of one hundred, (more or less), each band electing 
Captain and Guide; — but all such bands recognizing some 
chosen Guide and Captain, of the Company of Crusaders 
inhabiting said circuit of five miles square, as seniors in 
office. 

It shall require ten companies, each commanded by a 
senior Captain and Guide, to constitute a battalion. 

Each battalion shall be officered by a Commandant and an 
associate Lady, styled a Warden. To these officers the 
senior Captains and Guides shall communicate all matters 
of interest essential to the well-being of their respective com- 
panies. As often as once in three months each company 
shall receive a visit from the Commandant or Warden, or 
both, and receive the encouragement of their suggestions 
and counsels. To said Commandant and Warden, the senior 
Captain and Guide shall represent the wishes of the bands 
under their charge, in the choice of public officers. 

All instances of official corruption shall be reported and 
investigated, the result published to the people concerned 
and the corrupt officer formally expelled by them from his 
office. Any officer giving thorough satisfaction, will have 
the right to expect promotion in his office, when any suit- 
able vacancy occurs. 

It shall require ten Battalions to constitute an Army 
Corps. Said Corps shall be officered by a General and a 
Governing Lady. To them the various Commandants and 
Wardens shall deliver all necesssary information concern- 
ing their respective battalions, conveying the wishes of the 



330 A Psychic Autobiography 

People with regard to public officers, and reporting the con- 
duct of officials under their inspection. 

The General and Governing Lady shall carefully guard 
against official corruption, watchfully regarding the con- 
duct of those directly below them in rank, and promptly 
causing investigation under suspicious circumstances. 

When the time approaches for the yearly nomination of 
Bureau officers, all Captains, Guides, and lesser officials 
shall be elected among the people by acclamation and imme- 
diately installed in office. They shall then be instructed 
in regard to the wishes of the people respecting the higher 
officers of battalion and corps, who are not to be displaced 
before the expiration of their allotted term of service, so 
long as they give thorough satisfaction. In case of dis- 
placement or promotion, offices will be given to those hold- 
ing positions next below in rank, who have proved satisfying, 
unless such shall decline to serve. 

All these officers will be considered as holding Offices of 
Honor, and will receive no payment for their services, 
unless obliged to render them at seasons when their soldiery 
are not convened for public exercise; in which case their 
labors shall be stated to the Bureau of Employment, and 
repaid, as shall seem just, out of the public funds. 

So far as practicable, such officers as have been prompt and 
faithful in the discharge of their Crusade obligations, shall 
be selected by the respective Companies, according to the 
order of their rank, as candidates for their offices of trust. 
Any lesser officers of Corps or Battalions may be chosen as 
necessity shall require, in the same manner, and subject to 
the same rules of superior supervision. 

When the complete Corps of Army Officers, holding 
Offices of Honor, shall have been elected or confirmed in 
Office, by the people, as indicated, there shall follow, among 
all the Companies, a general nomination of Bureau Officers. 
All men, women and youths over eighteen years of age, shall 
in each Company declare, by acclamation, what men and 
women they prefer should fill such offices of Trust, giving 
always precedence to those already installed, whose term of 
office shall not have fully expired; and after them, to those 
officers immediately below in rank. If any such shall not be 



The Crusade Documents 331 

deemed desirable, a lower rank may be elevated; or, in case 
of extraordinary benefits conferred upon the people by any 
member of the Order of Honor, he may be nominated to 
any vacant office, though not previously in official connection 
with the Host. 

The companies having confirmed or renominated their can- 
didates for all the offices of the Public Bureaus, shall deliver 
their votes, through their Captains and Guides, to the Com- 
mandants and Wardens, who shall communicate such results 
to the Generals and Governing Ladies, of the united bat- 
talions. Said Generals and Governing Ladies, throughout 
the entire Host, shall then proceed to confer with each other, 
and having selected all nominees who have received a vote 
of not less than one-fifth of the entire vote of the people, shall 
present them to the Bureau of Appointment. The names 
of such as shall have been nominated to any single office, 
shall be written down upon as many slips of paper as will 
signify their true proportion of votes, each slip answering to 
one-fifth of the entire vote, or the nearest approximation 
thereto. The lots shall then be put into the hands of the 
Chieftain of Battalions, who shall, in the presence of all the 
Bureau, proceed to draw. In doing this, he must be rigidly 
blind-folded, and the depository of names given to him, after 
each member of the Bureau shall have assisted in the fair 
disposal of them, preparatory to the final act. 

The result shall then be returned officially to the people, 
who shall, by acclamation, declare their assent to the elec- 
tions, or their disapproval of any candidate or candidates 
chosen. If one-third of the votes of the Captains and Guides 
thereafter sent in, representing the will of the people, should 
be against the election of any candidate, the lot shall be re- 
cast and others chosen from the remaining names. 

When the Bureau of Appointment shall have finally 
ratified all nominations, the candidates shall be declared duly 
elected, and after assenting to the duties required of them, 
shall receive the insignia of their offices from the Chief of the 
Bureau of Education into whose hands each retiring 
officer shall deliver them. 

All the offices of the public Bureaus and such offices as 



332 A Psychic Autobiography 

shall be left open to the appointment of the Bureau of Ad- 
ministration, (subject to the approval of the General 
Council) shall be considered as offices of trust, to be ade- 
quately supported out of the public funds. 

Officers of Honor shall hold their position, as such, for a 
period of not less than three months, nor more than three 
years; receiving displacement or promotion therefrom at the 
will of the people, unless convicted of corruption, when they 
may be expelled by acclamation. 

Officers of Trust shall hold their position, as such, for a 
period of not less than one year, nor more than five. If con- 
victed of official corruption, their cases shall be brought 
under the jurisdiction of the General Council, which shall 
re-consider all testimonies against them, and if the previous 
conviction be found just, shall depose them from place and 
expel them from the Crusade ranks. 

No Crusader so expelled, shall be again elected to any 
office in the gift of the people; but will forever remain out- 
side of their counsels as unworthy of confidence. He shall 
not, however, therefore forfeit his promised rights, as In- 
heritor; and shall be still a subject for Crusade benevolence, 
if he become needy; or, his heirs, who have depended upon 
him for support, shall receive the full benefit accruing from 
his connection with the Crusade Host, if they be proven to 
be in want. 

In order to carry out the design of establishing this organ- 
ization of Crusaders, a body of not less than three men and 
three women, shall form themselves into a Provisional 
Bureau, accepting and judiciously using all bestowed 
monies, conducting all Crusade contracts, and giving certifi- 
cates of membership, through such recruiting officers as shall 
have been authorized to extend invitations and receive re- 
cruits. 

As soon as ten battalions shall have been formed, The Pro- 
visional Bureau shall call for a public election of Officers, 
which shall proceed in accordance with the Constitution ; 
after which election, and the accompanying instalments, by 
said Bureau, of elected officers, the members thereof shall 
retire from public service, unless the people have signified 



The Crusade Documents 333 

their continuance in office, by electing them as members of 
the new Bureaus. Every year thereafter, the election of 
Officers shall take place in its regular order, at a date fixed 
by the people previous to their first nominations. 



XXVIII 



AERIAL BRIDGES 




Pflls lSPElln l UT of those fifteen weeks I have been 
;M^P _ ' Id te l nn g °f> through ten of them my days 

Ml were occupied in writing things for pay, 
and reveling in sunshine out of doors. Save 
in a casual way, I spent no thought on 
" Social Jurisprudence " till evening lec- 
ture-time. But then my own poor person- 
ality dropped off; — another took its place. How long the 
lectures were — an hour or less or more — I only guessed ; but 
I was unfatigued in any case. The being made to speak an- 
other's thoughts taxed neither brain nor body. To speak 
my own had been another matter; — there could have been 
no rush of eloquence. Up to that date and afterward till 
1887, none ever heard me give discourses save when I had a 
spirit's aid. Having been used to halt in time of writing, 
and pick and choose and search for words — after the way of 
" Sentimental Tommy," I had no ready speech beyond the 
merest talk. Even yet, with many years to wear away the 
spell, it clings. Alas for oratory, should I essay to be an 
orator! Believe me, this is not to talk about myself — only 
to show my limitations ! — Let them be reckoned up. 

Sometimes the family drove for recreation. Once we 
went to Canandaigua Lake and stopped along the way for 
visiting. Then, for the first and only time, within my 
knowledge, the children had a play time. I rejoiced. 

Moreover, now and then, crossing the village-line, we 
passed an ancient woolen factory, not quite unused it seemed. 
Such worn-out properties (made valueless by abolition of 
the woolen tariff) were nothing odd; and I had passed them 
otherwhere and scarcely taken notice. This was different. 
Each time we went that way I had what seemed a Psycho- 
metric consciousness of father. I do suppose that I was 

334 



Aerial Bridges 335 

super-sensitive during those summer months, beyond my 
wont. One day, drawn by a singular force, I went alone 
and roamed among the tenter-frames. And there I met 
my father — not in flesh and not in exaltation, but as he used 
to be, or ever I drew breath. Not that I saw him. Nay, 
we need not see! It is enough to know. 

Having a slight excuse, I went to see the owner, — an old, 
old man who oftentimes forgot. "What? Did I ever 
know a Henry Jones?" He started up with pleasure: 
"Wife! Wife! Come here! You've heard me talk so 
much of Henry Jones? Here's some one asks about him. 
Why he was like a son to me ! He learned his trade of me ! 
He lived with me five years till he was twenty-one. Then 
someone shot him with a ramrod; but he lived. They said 
he was so resolute he ivouldn't die! " 

" Oh, that was Father ! — Father ! " 

" Your father ? Now, look here : Go to the woolen 
factory, where he used to work. You'll find an old man 
there who worked with him." 

So down the hill I went — heart beating high: " Tell me 
some little thing about my father, Henry Jones." He mused : 
" I knew him first fifty-eight years ago, — a handsome, red- 
cheeked boy, whom everybody liked. One day, when he 
was older, two burly Irishmen came in — both fighting-mad. 
They called for him : ' You've made complaint of us before 
the magistrate. You said we didn't half support our fami- 
lies; — our wives and children starve. We're under bonds 
to work and keep from drink. That's very well, but first 
we'll pay our debts ; we've come to lick you, sir ! ' 
_ "Your father laughed: 'Why, yes! I made complaint; 
lick me by all means. You'll find me in the weaving-room.' 
And then he walked away to tend his looms. They hung 
around for half a day, and finally went home ashamed. 
Their families fared the better. 

" I saw your father last in 1 832, just after cholera time. 
He left his work in Rochester to nurse the sick — people were 
so afraid. He never was afraid of anything, not even death. 
And that's the sort of man your father was." 

O, wonderful Psychometry! Nothing through all that 
summer gave me such delight as that dear consciousness of 



336 A Psychic Autobiography 

him in early life. What you perceive without another's 
help, is altogether yours. It cannot be subtracted from the 
sum of you. Just take it, and be glad that you are Psycho- 
metric ! 

Come, spirits! use us if you will; inspire, speak, write; 
but never rob! Cut off no aptitude, deny no faculty. 
We'll yield to you, we'll work for you, 

" We'll die for you perhaps, — 't is probable ; 
But we'll not spare an inch of our full height; — 
We'll have our whole, just stature — five feet four." 

Well, when the Documents began to be, sometime in early 
August, I ceased to write for pay. My mind was floating 
off in such a formless luminosity — an atmosphere above ob- 
servable things — I could no more have written stories than 
could a butterfly creep back into the chrysalis, become a 
worm again, and breathe through spiracles. Moreover, as 
to planning schemes and framing rules of Government, I 
could as soon have mapped out Andromeda's nebula and 
named its hidden suns. This luminosity was not vacuity. 
I had no definite thoughts, — I had perceptions. Light, they 
say, attracts; I was aware of light that held me poised, — 
scarcely of gravitation. 

This I know : Whoever framed " The Crusade Docu- 
ments " — transmitted through myself — it verily was not I. 
Too well I know what composition costs, to dream that I — 
sub-consciously or otherwise — wrought out that piece of 
tapestry. 

Frail Mrs. Browning tells us of a seraph-poet: 

" He could enunciate and refrain 
From vibratory after-pain." 

That may be true of seraphs. But no one resident in 
flesh can think or speak or write his larger thoughts with- 
out a tingling sense of effort, followed by recoil. I know 
that suffering well. 

Not less you have the reader's right of judgment; but 
pray you understand, as to " The Crusade Documents/' 



Aerial Bridges 337 

whatever be their worth or lack of worth, no thought or 
word of them had fallen into line within my mind before 
the time of writing. Foreign to all my moods and meth- 
ods, strange to me as unknown birds of passage, sentence by 
sentence came to me in due succession — one might say with 
not a feather ruffled ! — so you have the whole — complete, con- 
sistent, not a word crossed out and not a word supplied. 
10,000 words perhaps, each after each in order; meant for 
you to read. 

And note: Instead of "vibratory pain" I might as well 
have spent my time in plucking sweet verbena, — 

" which, being brushed against 

Will hold the sense, hours after, by the smell." 

Even so the " Safety Cage " was built and swung in 
place; and even so it waits. 

What of the small, white tower, without a door for exit? 
In truth the very walls gave way and let me out. Whither 
was I to go? 

Well, first, when " prisoners of poverty " desire to travel, 
needs must they count their dollars. Me — I had a few but 
lately earned, sixty or thereabouts ; albeit I was made to un- 
derstand that I must spend them on myself. And so I said 
to Rev. and Mrs. Rawlinson : " I am going East about my 
mission-work. I need a little time for getting ready. Please 
let me board with you a month or so, while I am taking air- 
baths, furbishing my dresses — waiting on the Lord" 

I really needed social consolation — having a wound or two 
that hurt; and verily these people were so dear, it seemed 
as though September's balms far out in woods and fields, 
were sending gales of perfume through the house. I breathed 
and slept and drove across the hills (after the ministerial 
pony) and lived like common folk. My precious coterie 
of friends believed in me, and in my work as well, — even in 
my veritable vision by the Yuh Heh Springs. For that I 
bless them all. 

Miss Phillips sent for me one day : " You've charged us 
not to talk about your mission. Yesterday I disobeyed. I 
cold a dear young lady all about it. She said : ' Oh, how I 



338 A Psychic Autobiography 

long to help! There's only one thing I can do. Ask her if 
she will share my ward-robe. That is mine to give.' " 

What! Charity? But this was Love out-right! — No 
more to be refused than gushing water from the rock of 
Horeb, — one being in the desert, all athirst! Cloaks, 
dresses, bonnets, things to be desired, things needed ur- 
gently. Would I could give her name! 

There was a gentleman who loved and visited my host. 

We'll call him Mr. H . Not very rich himself, — his 

brothers, multi-millionaires, were gathering him in among 
themselves. So he was all in line with wealth! He came 
and said : " My friend has told me that you wish to found 
a Rescue Home for women. Come to New York, and 
come to me." 

There swung my first balloon ! You'll hear of him again. 
But think of it ; to float up high and far — a wondering 
crowd below! They say it's cold up there — please you, 
we'll go by land. Or no! we'll walk on air, — step out by 
faith, and feel a hand beneath press hard and hold us up. 

I woke one noon out of my air-bath sleep, and caught this 
flying message, — half prevision : " Start for the East one 
week from Saturday; and what will come to you there in 
the East, you cannot possibly guess." 

I counted off the days : " Why that's my birthday — 
thirty-seven years! I'll have a birthday gift; What will 
it be? " 

I woke another day: "Write to Prof. L. C. Cooley. Say 
that you wish to stop in Albany and ask an interview." 
What for? — and even that I had no power to guess. Ah, 
well! I knew him somewhat, seventeen years before — my 
sister's husband's cousin. So, why not stop in Albany. I 
wrote; and frankly, had the spirit said: "Write now to 
Queen Victoria ! " I should have dipped the pen, and if 
commanded, made the same request. But let me say — 
daring to own myself obedient — that spirits never asked of 
me a foolish thing! And if I walked on air, they set their 
props beneath. I did not fall nor fear. 

Now, on the second morning after, at the breakfast table, 
I announced : " Just as I woke, before my eyes were open, 
I saw a blazing comet — starting from below — rush half- 



Aerial Bridges 339 

way to the zenith, stop, stand still, and seem to be a stead- 
fast morning-star. That means that I shall know this very 
day what I must do about my mission-work. God has a 
gift for me — a wonderful, great gift. I shall not see the 
sun as yet; — the Eastern sky was dark; but I shall see the 
star that prophecies the sun." 

Said Mr. Rawlinson, after his Methodist manner: " Sis- 
ter, you seem to be a very Daniel for interpretation." What 
could we do but laugh. 

Now, there was present Jane M. Kendall, a lovely friend 
of mine from Providence (sister of Henry Kendall, most 
revered). We had begun to love each other in 1859, at 
Clifton Water Cure. We never stopped; and I suppose, 
throughout eternity, we two shall call across as many worlds 
as Heaven may interpose, and answer each to each. But 
now (I stay so long!) we bide our time. 

Waking that day out of my usual air-bath slumber — with 
not a memory in mind of what had once been told (note 
this!) and not a thought beyond, I said (these are the very 
words) : 

" / see how fruit can be canned without cooking it. The 
air must be exhausted from the cells and fluid made to take 
its place. The fluid must be airless also — a light syrup of 
sugar and water — that, or the juice of fruit." 

Now, let me say at once, No spirit told me this. I have 
inventions — patentable — patented. They are as much my 
own as are my many poems — mostly studied out by slow and 
painful process, often at bitter cost. To every patent ap- 
plication I have taken oath, unperjured : " This is my in- 
vention. — This I claim." 

Spirits may clear away the mists before us ; — it is our eyes 
that see! Spirits may point the way; it is our feet that 
walk! Spirits may scatter thoughts like meadow-flowers; 
our hands must gather them. Whatever spirits know, they 
have no right to tell us — they have no power to tell us — 
unless we have the necessary mind and brain development, 
enabling us to fully apprehend. Then we can meet as 
equals — not before. And so this golden blossom dropped 
beside me, — so I picked it up. 

Not less a spirit interposed a minute after: " That is the 



340 A Psychic Autobiography 

way to get your money. Go East and you shall be sus- 
tained." . . . .Here was my rushing comet, — here my morn- 
ing star; and all in God's good time would glow the rising 
sun. 

Yet let us linger for a moment. I had perceived a prin- 
ciple, and nothing more. A principle is like a world — it 
swings upon itself; but also it must swing among the other 
worlds, subject to all their laws. You must allow for that; 
and give me many years to set my little orb to spinning — 
satellites and all. Moreover there are Jupiters, you know, 
that have a mighty pull; we'll swing as far away from them 
as possible. 

Linger a moment longer: I did not know, I never yet 
had heard (down in my little valley) that "many men of 
many minds," in Europe and America, wishing to do what 
now / meant to do, had toiled near thirty years to no avail. 
These men had lavished wealth — much wealth (one man in 
Baltimore had lavished half a million). And now they 
said: " The field has all been traveled over. We have been 
deluded. No such principle exists." Not one had ever 
thought of using fluid ; not one had learned that fundamental 
lesson : " Nature abhors a vacuum." Curious ! 

Do you remember how a manufacturer in Sheffield, many 
years ago, chanced to escort a girl of sixteen years, with 
others, through his Works; and how he said, with sorrow? — 
" Wonderful to look at, but the air is full of flying particles 
of steel; my workmen breathe it in — they die. I've studied 
twenty years and found no remedy ! " " But," said the 
girl : " Why not suspend a magnet near their mouths ? " 
And so this man "invented" (after her) what saved in- 
numerable lives. He won a deal of credit. 

After this manner all those notable preservers, missed the 
simple thought that I, who had not canned a jar of fruit in 
all my life, discerned as in a dream. A thought, a principle 
not yet embodied — a law not yet expressed. Come, let us 
have a process ! Some one must collaborate. Why not Pro- 
fessor Cooley? — fine of mind and deft of hand — investigator, 
chemist, physicist — all that I was not. Moreover spirits 
had elected him; and that alone sufficed. 

Said Brother Rawlinson : " This means, perhaps, far more 



Aerial Bridges 341 



than we imagine. I do believe God wants the world sup- 
plied with better food." 

Said Jennie Kendall: " Prove that you are right in this, 
then come to Providence and let my brother know." (Item: 
He did not fly balloons.) 

So, blest abundantly with human sympathy, inspired with 
singular faith, no more afraid than birds that cleave the 
wind, I started off that glad October day — as say the Metho- 
dists, with " glory in my soul ; " and all the way along, I 
sang doxologies. 

Even so, though I had wholly failed in sight of all the 
folk my failure would seem better than success, in clearer 
eyes than ours. Failure is but another name for loss that 
leads to gain. He cannot perish, who, beyond Belief, has 
caught the hand of Faith. I trusted, — that sufficed. Faith 
never fails; and that which fails must bear another name. 

And so, when Dr. Cooley said that night : " These 
thoughts of yours are plausible; I'll try and prove them true," 
I felt no more elation than before. Only, when he had 
gone away, I fell upon my knees and asked for sacramental 
grace; — How else was I to serve? How else was I to 
suffer? There is no other way to serve except through 
suffering, till we are rid of bonds, — or bonds become delight. 

But now we have to deal with open facts, with common 
life and labor. The laboratory-tests were promising; we 
saw the air escape — tearing the grapes apart, and knew of 
nothing more to do after the flasks were filled with fluid, 
only to seal them up (though that was difficult) and wait to 
prove results. There being nothing more for me to do — 
having provided means for further tests, I went, at last, to 
visit Mrs. Rathbone — the lady of the " pinks," you may re- 
member. " This is the seventh day you've been in Albany 
and never called on me? " So I must needs explain. 

She proved to be a Baptist lady, sweet and strict. Not 
less I told her of my vision and something of my inner history. 
Not recreant to any trust, nor recreant to any truth, from 
first to last, — against all prejudice, if any were, I dealt, and 
deal to-day, in open speech, whenever there is need. Folk 
say the orthodox, so called, are bigoted. I have not found 
them so. Those only sneer who have escaped from bonds — 



342 A Psychic Autobiography 

save such as they, themselves, have twisted hard ! Let's hope 
they slip the knots. Love — love is what we need. That's 
always Orthodox. 

I did not say to Mrs. Rathbone: " Hotel and laboratory- 
work have almost swallowed up my surplus funds." Ten 
dollars ought to be enough for toll, when one has but to 
pass the gate and walk along on air. Still, realizing need, 
her " woman's love " (plant full of pinks), led her to press 
upon me twenty-five dollars at the time, and after that she 
wrote: " My son willed me a sum of money, solely to give 
away," — and sent a hundred more; also requiring me to 
rr.i.ke her house my home when I should come again. 

Aside from that I had " One Night " at Scribner's, good 
for thirty dollars. That poem, written four years earlier, 
had been my last. Nine years from that to " Heart of Sor- 
rows" — and not a " truly " poem in between! It's well to 
let 3^our field lie fallow for a time; you get the better crop. 
Also there came a hundred dollars from father's cousin, 
Sarah Henry Beach — and may she walk on flowers! 

" No, No! " I said to Mrs. Hester Poole: " You need not 
introduce me, even among the charitable. I have not come 
to beg. I've come to earn. Please recommend me to a 
boarding-house." No less I had a banquet with " Sorosis." 
That gave me keen delight: I listened, watched and won- 
dered : " All these beautiful and able women — well equipped 
for service, together or alone, and I, a shrunken creature, 
made to stand up straight and carry on my head a greater 
weight than any ! " Oh, not that I complained ! 

Who says that anything is due to chance? — Well then, it 
chanced I made my home awhile in Dr. Atwood's House — 
where people came for baths; and once (never again) Vic- 
toria Woodhull came, and, having heard my name, desired 
to see me. She said: "One W. Livingston Browne has 
sought me out, hoping to introduce a scheme founded on 
certain Documents. He says that they were written by your 
hand and in his house, but came undoubtedly from spirits. 
He thinks that they belong to him. It seems to me they 
should be yours instead. Has he your full authority?" 

Being informed, she sent, with conscientious kindness, the 
copyrighted sheet wherein I read again the missing Docu- 



Aerial Bridges 343 

ments and found them reproduced without a fault. My 
friend, the ardent boy who saw them written (howbeit lights 
were dim,) had proved himself a faithful copyist; but they, 
as written, had been sealed away from mortal sight. We 
hope they may be found. So far as I may know there is no 
other printed copy. None was furnished me by Mr. Browne, 
who did not let me know. 

Having advised with that most honored judge and gentle- 
man whose name I have already given you, I wrote by his 
command and in his name, forbidding further use. A cer- 
tain " ragged rock " had rent the cable ; " the strong, steel 
arms of law " struck out, and all was safe. But see how 
spirits make provision : One step, this way or that, taken by 
Mrs. Woodhull or myself — or even by Mrs. Poole who 
chose my boarding place — and all had been engulfed. I 
cannot choose but think that spirits intervened. 

I beg to say that Mr. Browne was ignorant of law. He 
thought himself fairly entitled to the written word. — I be- 
ing but a medium after all, a mere transmitter, — not respons- 
ible. And anyway, a medium, by common apprehension, is 
in a state of nonage. He made a good custodian. We have 
the service; let us render thanks. 

Come, now, we'll forge ahead! And if you care to learn 
what may be done — even for general good — when spirits 
lend their aid; let me invite you all to listen just a little 
longer. Albeit nought begins or ends, yet this, my Psychic 
story, shall find a stopping place. 

When I had been ten days established in New York, I 
heard from Doctor Cooley; and all our pretty flasks had 
come to nought. He wrote : " So far, I think of nothing 
else to do." 

Did I appeal to spirits ? No, not I ! Some lady — thought 
to be a medium — had said unwisely: " Scald your fruit: — 
not boiling water — some degrees below." Well, what was 
that but cooking? Still it served to set me thinking. 
Warmth it seemed would aid expansion; let us have a little 
warmth; and this I wrote, advising Dr. Cooley. 

There may have been telepathy abroad — from him to me, 
perchance from me to him; for when my letter reached him, 
he was trying warmth. This was but one of other in- 



344 A Psychic Autobiography 

stances; but let me say at once that he had frankly stated 
(when I had told of Psychic understanding) : " / never had 
a vision." In truth he did not trust in mine, nor did I 
care to have him. Both believed that oxygen would ruin 
fruit, and both were bent on getting rid of it. We met on 
common grounds; — a tolerant Presbyterian, an ardent 
Spiritualist — what mattered some small difference of 
thought? We had a common purpose; and verily I think 
he had, no less than I, a great desire to help our common 
world. 

So passed another week. And then — impelled, inspired 
or what you will — I went to Albany, this time the welcome 
guest of Mrs. Joel Rathbone. 

" If this one flask should fail! " said Dr. Cooley: " I see 
no more to do." I answered him : " If there is nothing more 
to do, it will not fail; for God has promised me." Yet, 
when I reached the street, my heart went down like lead : 
" It will not keep, I know ; it is already ruined." 

What then was left to do but hide away within my upper 
room, and call and agonize and make demand? If you have 
ever read Charles Wesley's "Wrestling Jacob" (the great- 
est hymn a mortal ever wrote), or said to One Unseen: " I 
will not let Thee go except Thou bless me," you needs must 
understand. Oh, long I searched myself! If there but 
lurked the shadow of a doubt, the faint remembrance of a 
former doubt, God's light must burn it out. 

Then, in a measure, I obliterated self. I thought of him 
whom I had left among his flasks, and begged: ''Whatever 
else remains to do, show him and not myself. Reveal the 
secret now! Even this moment let him understand! ". . . . 
[And in that very time, he seized the thought!] 

But after that I waited — still upon my knees. I waited 
.... then I saw ! And will you share my vision ? — guess 
the symbols out? Suppose, I let you try. 

I saw a mighty mountain cleft almost in twain. I stood 
below and wondered : " Why do so many climb upon this 
nearer side, and no one cross the chasm?" — for on the fur- 
ther side no mortal shape was seen. 

But then I saw that many neared the edge and looked 
across, while some essayed to leap; and all that leaped fell 



Aerial Bridges 345 

in. Whether they really perished, or would come in view 
and climb the hither side as once before, I paid no further 
heed. 

But now I saw myself full half way up. The rift was 
narrow there; it seemed about to close. Easy to step across 
and take possession. So "Step across!" I called in spirit; 
and the one that seemed my very self, strove to obey. The 
foot that should have passed was caught within the cleft — 
but presently withdrawn. 

And now appeared a polished bridge of stone, set solidly 
in place to join this side with that, — a bridge so strong and 
heavy, neither flood nor earthquake could have done it harm ; 
and just above the bridge, the rocks were all as one. I saw 
that seeming self move on and stand upon that bridge. I 
saw two shining spirits — tall women-spirits — angels if you 
choose to call them so — descend and come to me across the 
mountain from the further side. No words could tell how 
white and beautiful they were. 

Now one of these two angels bore a sleeping babe. She 
held it out ; she laid it in my arms. " The gift is yours," 
she said : " But look above ; the path is long and steep, and 
at the very mountain-top there stands a cross." (I saw the 
snow-white cross.) " Let no one take the child. Bear it — 
a precious burden, till you have reached the cross. Then 
lay it down, close to the foot, and pass! Nothing shall hurt 
the child." 

And did I hear these very words? I did — or so it seemed. 
So I have borne the burden all these years. I have not 
many steps to take before I reach the cross. 

Well, the next evening, being at Dr. Cooley's house, he 
handed me the flask. I promise you it bubbled merrily! I 
knew no more of chemistry than I had known of law, before 
Judge Evelyn came; but this I knew: My foot was in the 
cleft — now I should see the bridge! I said: " If we could 
find some way of penetrating fruit with steam, and yet not 
cooking it — that would be the way. 

" It is the way," said Dr. Cooley. " I discovered it after 
you left me yesterday. A cooking-heat is needed under at- 
mospheric pressure; steam expels the air. But here we have 
a vacuum; our fluids boil at 80 Fahrenheit — and so we get 



346 A Psychic Autobiography, 

the steam, but not the heat. I shall prolong the time and 
boil in vacuo till every trace of air is driven out." 

See, what it is to be a Scientist. Up to that point the 
thoughts had been my own, of precedence and right. And 
yet, without his supplementing thought, this work of mine 
had ended then and there. I do not say he was inspired, 
but / had been inspired to visit him, and more than that to 
put my trust in him as one whom others trusted — souls re- 
leased from earth! What matter though he saw them not? 
He served; and that sufficed. 

" I cannot test this final thought," said Dr. Cooley, " be- 
fore next week." Now, this was Friday evening. Sunday 
morning, I, being in New York, awoke: And there, beside 
my bed, close to the head thereof, stood up a tall white cross, 
wreathed down the center with a grape vine, bearing grapes. 
All day, and all the days thereafter, I rejoiced, until there 
came a letter : " On Saturday, I saw that you had left a 
box of grapes, and dropped my necessary work to make an- 
other test. Fifteen days have passed ; — so far the fruit is 
keeping; — we may hope." Hope? I had sung doxologies 
two weeks because the grapes had kept! I had not been 
allowed to feel suspense. And when we broke the seal on 
Christmas morning, even to a doubtful Scientist, no further 
doubt was possible. The fruit had kept five weeks, three 
days and sixteen hours: "Delicious!" Rossa said. 

And so I took away from Albany next day a pretty lot of 
samples; and it was evident that I must learn to be a busi- 
ness woman. Fifteen weeks that previous summer, one had 
instructed me in " Social Jurisprudence." I had a mind to 
make some use of all that I had learned — first for self- 
guidance, then for self-protection; after that, fulfilment. 

Now, when a letter came from Washington : " We find 
the process patentable. Please send us twenty dollars," I 
had not twenty dollars left. It costs to live in cities, carry 
on experiments, and travel more or less. I had not laid 
the letter down, when Maggie knocked: "A gentleman to 
see Miss Jones." 

I had an excellent friend who often called, — one of our 
" Nameless Club," not prosperous of late. So down I ran, 
and, throwing wide the door, held out my letter, crying: 



Aerial Bridges 347 

" Read it, Mr. Cummings. I'm to have a patent ! " The 
gentleman rose up and took the letter. Why this was John 
H. Keyser, who kept a hospital, a Stranger's Rest, and other 
"Good Will" places! He plunged his hand at once into 
his pocket: "There's your twenty dollars; and now I see 
why I was made to come! " 

Soon after that, his wife (a very lovely lady), came her- 
self, and proffered kindnesses. So full of interest were both, 
so amply able to assist, one might have thought here was a 
happy opportunity. I put the chance aside — and if there 
was a chance! — because my guardian willed. And yet there 
came a time when I accepted something — not a money-gift. 
I wouldn't miss the telling for a lot of dollars, — if you will 
please to wait. 

About that time — I haven't kept the date — right in a busy 
hour I was impelled to drop all else and call on Mrs. Col- 
lins' daughter (living in New York) ; — the very child who 
danced, and played for dancing, all unconsciously, 'way back 
in 1854, y° u ma y remember. 

She said : " I think you'd better go, and come again. 
Mother is here, — shut up with Mr. Eighmie in the dining- 
room, trying to settle up their business before she starts the 
Cure. He mustn't know you're here. He'd think it all 
contrived." 

" Call out your mother ; tell her I am sent." So " Take 
your choice," I said to Mrs. Collins : " Let him know or 
not." 

Suspicious? Not at all. I hadn't seen him since we'd 
met at Yuh Heh Springs, when God's own hand had touched 
his heart, unsealed that sacred spring of charity, and made 
a desert bloom. He welcomed me with gladness. " Both 
of you come home with me. We'll give Judge Evelyn a 
chance." And off we went at once. 

So the next day, after a cordial greeting,* Judge Evelyn 
made me take the pen, and wrote, through me, in that old 
English script the Documents had shown, a full Agreement 
as between the two who had not yet agreed. When Mr. 
Eighmie would have signed his name, Judge Evelyn said: 
" I shall not let you sign till you have seen some very able 

* See Appendix XV. 



348 A Psychic Autobiography 

lawyer. If he, on your account, should disapprove, withhold 
your name." 

We went — all three of us: " Who wrote this Document? " 
the Lawyer asked. "A very perfect legal document! I 
could not change a word for either one of you." He added, 
full of admiration: " A pretty, pretty piece of work! " And 
so we signed the copies there and then, they as contracting 
parties, I (and I think the lawyer), witnessing for both.* 

The Articles released the lady, not from debts to Mr. 
Eighmie, but from the need of paying interest on debts; 
gave her the Cure for occupancy; left her free of him, in 
every sense, to carry on her work (throughout five years, I 
think) till she should have full chance to make the Springs 
remunerative. And yet his interests were protected, — mort- 
gages, with interest, and finally a stated bonus (that "little 
usury" he had been promised, legally arranged!). In case 
of Mrs. Collins' death or failure, certain claims were his, — 
just claims that could not be denied. 

Now, after Mrs. Collins passed away — there being none 
to take her place — the Springs, the Cure, and one small tract 
of land, became the property of Jeremiah Eighmie; and like 
the " Safety Cage," — the work — well guarded — waits God's 
chosen time. 

I take you into confidence: You cannot know how peril- 
ous have seemed my airy bridges. Walk with me along 
(you need not fear to fall), and I will show you, here and 
there, the setting of a pier on solid ground, to keep you 
well assured. But as for me, except by faith, I never saw 
the pier, what time I passed that way, until I stepped thereon. 
If ye have faith, " Say to this sycamine tree, ' Be thou 
plucked up and be thou planted in the sea,' it shall be done; " 
and though my faith, perhaps, was not so great, believe me 
it sufficed. 

After the process-patent was allowed to me and Dr. 
Cooley, I visited that " very able lawyer " and had our con- 
tract drawn. It left me wholly free to act, and yet accorded 
Dr. Cooley what seemed a rightful share of possible results, 
without responsibility. So after that I went to Albany for 
mutual advisement. Let me state the case: 



See Appendix XVI. 



Aerial Bridges 349 

Here was a laboratory process, very beautiful, which after 
three hours' work, expertly done, would turn you out a 
little flask of fruit. Detaching that, you had an orifice ex- 
posed to air. Be quick as thought, and seal your orifice by 
any possible device — and lo, you have a sample! Worth — 
how many dollars? About as merchantable as a peacock's 
egg; or, let us say, a loon's. 

Still, out of this "wee egg" must come (has come) a 
" muckle bird ; " — wings great enough to cover — reckoning 
from tip to tip — a nest of crowding birds, well-pinioned for 
the flight. This may be spoken of hereafter ; not to be dwelt 
upon, save through necessity. I mean to have you think of 
Psychic facts beyond all others; that is why I write. 

And now was I suspended, high in air! With four more 
patents needed, — one for Dr. Cooley (a simple set of tubes), 
two for myself on fruit jars made to suit the tubes, another 
crowning one for Dr. Cooley, to take the place of vacuum- 
pumps — far more efficient, cheaper, not to be improved upon. 
This was his final contribution; all else that followed was, 
and is, my own. 

Great was the need of dollars! " Daughter, why do you 
think so much of dollars? Trust and they will come." 
Mother would have me plant the " flower of patience," — 
father, the flower of "trust." I held them both in honor; 
and yet— what can a poor inventor do who needs five hun- 
dred dollars, and has but only five? Why, look around, of 
course, and try to get them ! I sat me down to think. 

Now there was Mr. H . Had he not said : " Come 

to New York, and come to me?" — Himself not poor by 
any means, and now in partnership with elder brothers — 
multi-millionaires. I wrote to him after this manner: 

" When you invited me to call on you concerning that 
proposed Reformatory, there seemed no other way of rais- 
ing funds except by contribution. Since then, I have ac- 
quired some patent-rights believed to be of value. I have a 
way of canning fruit uncooked. Gordon and Dilworth, who 
have seen my samples, think the matter most important. 
Let me refer to them. 

" Meantime I have to say, that since I lack the money 
for development, should it be furnished me by those in sym- 



350 A Psychic Autobiography 

pathy — not seeking personal gain — I should account to them, 
and hold myself amenable to guidance; — not giving up the 
patents, but pledging all their profits to the mission-work 
which you approve, and seemed disposed to aid." 

There was a pretty scheme! And (not to be inordinately 
vain) / thought it out myself! 

He answered very kindly: "Come to my Wall Street 
office. I shall be glad to see you." 

Was he? — Well, he took my samples — apples, plums and 
grapes with all their bloom upon them, showing through the 
fluid — looked them over, turned about, and said with cutting 
emphasis: "Why don't you sell your patents? No doubt 
preservers would be glad to get them. Take my advice and 
sell them. That's your only way." 

" I cannot. They are mine to hold in trust. No price 
could purchase them. In any case they have no market 
value. That is why I need the use of money, — first to get 
them ready, then to prove their worth ; and after that to 
gather profits year by year, for saving souls, according to my 
pledge." 

He handed back the flasks : " Unless you choose to sell 
outright, there's nothing I can do ; " and this he said with 
gentle dignity. (I thought he might have smiled!) 

However, two days afterward, 1 got a letter: " I have 
changed my mind. I shall be glad to help. Come to my 
private residence on Thursday — ten o'clock." 

Again I sat me down to think. " Is this good Methodist 
aware that I believe in spirit-intercourse? — that spirits visit 
me ? . . . . That I am led by them ? Come now ! There's 
time to reach him with a letter ; let him understand." 

/ made him understand. 

And how it rained on Thursday morning! — Rained and 
rained and rained. New York was all a-swimming. I 
waded round-a-bout from car to car — it took a lot of fares! 
The foot-man let me drain awhile; then took me in across 
the marble ; — the very chair seemed all inhospitable ! 

My friend came in, and paused six feet away. I do be- 
lieve he bowed! As for the rest, he stood up straight and 
tall and slender as an Arctic spruce; and wow! . . . but it 
was cold ! 



Aerial Bridges 351 

" It seems — you think — you have some special help about 
your business." 

" That is what I think." 

" Some very special help." 

"Yes; very special help." 

" A sort of inspiration." 

"Certainly, why not! You, as a Methodist, believe in 
prayer. Faith comes with prayer, and inspiration follows. 
We all believe in that." 

" But you believe in special inspiration." 

" So I do." 

" / never had such help about my business." (Tobacco — 
till he sold a sweeter product.) "We're quite at variance. 
There's nothing I can do." 

" That doesn't change the fact that I shall have my 
' special help ' — and very speedily. I do not know of any- 
one on earth who would assist. God knows — and that's 
enough." Uprose my faith from lurking in the shadow; 
and I was glad that I had been denied. 

I rose to go at once. He followed to the door : — " You'd 
better go and call on Mr. Black. I'll give you his address. 
He is rich and very generous. Doubtless your mission-work 
would interest him. True, — he's a Methodist — but — very — 
broad. Don't give my name." 

" I needn't call. It won't be necessary." 

" O, call ! I think he'll help Youd better use 

my name. He's quite a friend of mine. I'm very sorry 
not to see the way myself. I wish you full success." Al- 
most he smiled! 

And so I shut the gate, and dripped away. |(That was a 
mighty rain!) 

This Christian gentleman was right. He has my full 
respect. / was the one astray; and let me say: I didn't 
try again to fill that gaping purse without " some special 
help." 

Trials of faith. Well, here is one of them. Aside from 
workshops (visited for study), I had a single calling place — 
the " Stranger's Rest." There, in a desolate upper story, 
dwelt a lady once esteemed in Journalism — assistant editor 
to — never mind his name! — now out of health and place — 



352 A Psychic Autobiography 

necessitous no doubt. Too proud to make complaint — 
she drew me strangely. So it chanced I spent an hour 
with her another day, after that well-deserved rebuff. I 
had a sense of some unusual trouble; and while we sat in 
silence, pondered if I could comfort her with words. 

I wonder who stood near. But anyway this word came 
ringing in (set it to music if you can, it's awkward, but 
the element is there) : " Cant you give this woman two 
dollars? " 

Half I had, or more; but what of that ? Five hundred 
other dollars were afloat, drifting my way from out the 
surf. " Now let me prove my faith." And so I rose and 
slipped the money in her hand and said: " Good-bye." Be- 
fore I gained the door she burst out sobbing: "Wait! 
You cannot guess what I have suffered for the past two 
weeks because I lacked two dollars, — just two dollars! " 
(When last I heard of her she was Director of another 
city's charities!) 

Returning home I found a business proposition waiting 
me. A gentleman; not rich himself, but rich in friends 
because of unimpeachable integrity, could get for use some 
twenty-thousand dollars. So, by an equal partnership, he 
to bear every business burden, I to invent and have my will 
and way — we both could " bear out on the world " certain 
of all success. This would have been an upward flight 
indeed! — all in a well-inflated, fine, dirigible balloon! 

I had been told that I must bear the child myself, till I 
should reach the summit where the cross was set; and that 
was very high, and very far away. Oh, evidently I must 
climb ! — so I refused to soar. 

Next day I thought it wise to stay at home; and now I 
had to ask. Are we not taught to ask wit;h " importunity " 
as well as faith? What then was lacking but the clamor- 
ing voice that will not be denied? Faith passive is a tran- 
quil morning-atmosphere, not wholly free from fogs. Faith 
active is a rushing wind that drives all fogs away. Neutral 
or potential, faith exists in every soul — and not in mine 
alone. 

And must we own that we are spiritual atoms — nothing 
more? Yet even so, they tell us now that every atom has 



Aerial Bridges 353 

its one electron. When that shall spring to action, mark 
the luminous effect! So, even I, one of the least of atoms, 
was fired with spirit-energy; and suddenly the miracle was 
wrought. Faith was no longer faith, but perfect knowledge ; 
so the gift was mine. I rose from kneeling. I was like a 
flower whose petals lie all open to the sun, — as free from 
fear, as absolute in peace! 

" Now, child, put on your bonnet. Go and visit Mr. 
Eighmie." 

What common words these spirits utter ! " Is this the 
way they prove themselves immortal ? " — hear the doubter 
scoff. " Do they abide in light ? — then let them shine." 
[I think this spirit shone!] 

That man of old, who made the blind to see, used common 
clay. In all my thoughts I had not dreamed of bringing 
aught to bear on Jeremiah Eighmie. The very fact that he 
had yielded twice to Mrs. Collins all that a spirit asked, 
sufficed to set him far apart from me, their instrument. 

But now he said, quite of his own accord: " I've wanted 
you to come. I want to know whether your faith holds 
out. You said that you would be sustained. How is it 
now? Are you in need of money?" 

" Yes. I need five hundred dollars." 

"What for?" 

" To put fresh patent-applications in, get patterns, cast- 
ings, fruit-jar molds and dies, perhaps experimental appara- 
tus — pay my board, car-fare and ferriage. No doubt who- 
ever shall advance the money will have to wait for pay- 
ment very long. The difficulties are enormous — nothing can 
be hurried. That must be understood." 

"Five hundred dollars! Have you prayed for it?" 

"Oh, yes; I have the evidence of faith. It's coming." 

"Well, if you get it, that will prove to me that God will 
answer prayer. That's what I want to know. I want to 
be convinced. I'm going to stand aside and watch" 

So sweet and dear was Mrs. Jeremiah Eighmie, she would 
not let me go. She did not say: " Please stay till he is 
ready " ; but that was what she meant in urging me. Her 
sympathies had been with Mrs. Collins; now they were with 
me. No man is ever at his best without a worthy wife — 



354 A Psychic Autobiography 

well loved. This may account for many a saintship; who 
can tell? 

When I had been a guest two days my host appealed to 
me: "I want to hear Judge Evelyn again. I think he 
ought to come." And I suppose the spirit had been waiting 
for an invitation. Mark you, these spirits keep the straight- 
est law of courtesy! — unless indeed they have not yet es- 
caped the underself; and by that very test we find them 
out. 

So first the spirit gave us cordial greeting, yet with a 
certain formal, English manner quite his own; and, after 
that, we had a jurist's talk concerning human needs. That 
failed to satisfy the needs of Mr. Eighmie. At close of it 
he urged : " Judge Evelyn, our friend has started out to 
do a mission-work — inspired by spirits. She ought to be 
sustained. Just now she needs five hundred dollars. Can't 
you get it for her? Haven't spirits power? " 

" Sir; once I told you there should be a Home for fallen 
women. I said that if you chose it might be yours to lay 
the corner-stone ! This is the corner-stone ! " 

When I was cloaked and bonneted for going after a happy 
stay, my host arose and crossed the room and laid his hand 
upon my arm: 

" Don't you want to ask me?" 

And even so, was laid the "corner-stone." 




XXIX 

MOUNTAIN PATHS 

AS ever woman's life so revolutionized? 
Out in the open, haunting shops and fac- 
tories planning manifold devices, solving 
mechanical puzzles, — what had become of 
all my pretty times? No more rhyming, 
story-telling, broidering, playing tunes, 
gossiping, sowing seeds and plucking 
lovely flowers! Oh, how I missed the flowers! I do sup- 
pose my soul had need of them; so let me tell you this: 

Close by St. Paul's (you always pass St. Paul's!), a boy 
stood selling little bunches — pansies, heliotropes and vio- 
lets; — only ten cents. I used to hurry by. But once I 
stopped and opened purse, then shut it with a sense of 
shame: " I will not spend the Lord's money for flowers! — 
and so I sped along. At once — street-rattle in my ears 
(my common ears) — in came the Lord's own message! 
Who delivered it? No matter! Here it is: 

" You shall have all the flowers you want upon your 
birthday/' 

April — October; full six months to come! Let us admit 
a spirit might foretell a cataclysm, earthquake, avalanche 
or hurricane or even a Russian Revolution, by noting ob- 
vious laws. But seeing far away such tiny things as sprout- 
ing germs and growing slips, and positively knowing, half 
a year ahead, whose hand should grasp the flowers — why, 
that transcends belief! 

I had a way of telling friends about these little Psychic 
messages ; but now I said : " No one shall hear of this. 
No friend shall have a right to say I brought the prophecy 
to pass myself by letting people know." Be good enough 
to wait. Some say that spirit-fabrics "will n't wash"; 
we'll let this lie out in the rain and sun awhile, then look 
for faded colors. We'll wait six months for that. 

355 



356 A Psychic Autobiography 

I have no mind to dwell on so-called practical affairs, 
save as they illustrate or rather demonstrate my Psychic 
certainties. I said that " difficulties were enormous " ; I 
might have said appalling, if I had ever been appalled. And 
now that I have conquered them, and many others after 
them, I realize that those who gave me work which seemed 
impossible to do, knew well that I should conquer finally, 
however long the time; else work had not been given. 

Just a few moments then for better understanding. This 
initial process — canning without cooking (others were to 
follow) seemed to make imperative demands, that quite for- 
bade all profitable use. " Preserve the fruit in glass," said 
my collaborator: "There is no other way. Give vacuum, 
send in fluids by gradation, furnish needed warmth, watch 
needfully to hinder upward rush during the vacuum-boiling, 
detach the jars at close, and be expert and very swift in 
sealing — otherwise the air will enter through the orifice 
and goods will perish. — And oh, the three hours toil! 

Not practicable for commercial work? Well, it de- 
volved on me to make it so. Meanwhile most any house- 
wife would be very glad to can her fruits uncooked, six 
jars at once (that seemed the uttermost) if she could only 
catch the trick. So first I tried to make it possible for 
family use — hoping, in time, to make it less exacting. 

Ransacking three great cities, so far as I could learn, 
their " finished workmen " knew as much about hermetical 
sealing as great Jules Verne, the novelist. His wise as- 
tronomers (shut in a great retort with means for manu- 
facturing air at need), were shot far into space, you recollect, 
by means of vast explosions. Off they went around the 
moon, observing it through plate-glass windows, with Na- 
ture's universal vacuum outside — and not the slightest 
leak! — not even through the slide at bottom, out of which 
they dropped thermometers for scientific test, and once a 
poor, dead dog! This is for illustration, not instruction; 
pray receive it so. 

And yet in very truth men plan their " warranted air- 
tight " retorts, then set the vacuum-pumps at work and 
keep them at it, — otherwise no vacuum because of leaks. 
Nothing insecure would answer. So I taught myself 



Mountain Paths 357 

through many struggles, how to make an air-and-vacuum 
apparatus, valves and all, for very perfect work! Justice 
to Dr. Cooley requires that I should say he set the pace 
by giving me a practically perfect vacuum without the use 
of pumps. It had to be lived up to! 

Just here, consulting my chronology, I find that I must 
show a branching road. It wound away and yet swerved 
back at times, belike to join at last and broaden all. That 
is to know about hereafter. 

Hibbler & Dorrflinger were pressing fruit-jar caps for 
me; and so I hung about. One day the older partner 
swung away from writing: " Miss Jones, I see that you're 
a woman of ideas. I want to burn crude oil with safety 
under a glory-hole. Come out and see the furnace. I 
had a scientist at work four months at heavy cost. He 
couldn't do it; I believe you can. Anytime you'll under- 
take the task, I'll give you every chance." Very compli- 
mentary! I said: "I'll think about it." 

Just then I dropped my work. I sprang up as a bough 
released and went a-visiting; — oh, much in need of cash! 
My friend Miss Kendall, had been urging me to visit 
Providence; and even sending funds. I went about the 
ioth of May, for I remember blue-eyed " innocence " was 
blossoming in fields (the first I ever saw) and lilies of the 
valley all around the house upon the southern side. 

" I've wanted you to come and tell my brother all about 
your work. Why don't you speak of it? " 

" Because he doesn't ask me. He's not the sort of man 
one can intrude upon." 

At last he said : " Jane tells me that you have a Mission- 
work. How did that come about?" I saw a curious 
twinkle in his eye and met the challenge: "Oh, I had a 
vision ! " Why should I flinch from telling him the 
story — consecration, supplication, answered prayers and all? 
Being a business man of great affairs (not a chimerical 
scheme among them) ; — a Unitarian, like O. B. Frothing- 
ham, devout, clear-thoughted, no way credulous, I promise 
you he had a chance to scoff! And, last of all, I showed 
some certain samples all in flasks, because my jars were not 



358 A Psychic Autobiography 

yet operative — neither was my "family apparatus " more than 
half evolved. 

To tell the truth he laughed. He — elderly, austere, a 
man who bore himself with majesty, and would have 
scorned the weak, save for a certain tenderness — leaned 
back, and laughed and laughed. He rose and went to 
church, still laughing heartily. 

"Jones," Miss Kendall said, all smiles: "You've done 
it now ! " " What have I done ? " — " No matter ! you'll 
discover." 

"And now," said Mr. Kendall in a graver moment: 
" I'll admit you have a fine invention. Let me tell you my 
experience. I took up something, easier to handle, worked 
for fourteen years and put in twenty thousand dollars, 
before I put it on the market. I estimate for you a longer 
time, and more expenditure. But will your faith hold 
out?" 

" I've promised that it shall." 

Another day (I was about to leave) he came to dinner 
early. I saw him smiling to himself, before I entered 
through the open door and somehow thought of Jeremiah 
Eighmie, just as he looked when yielding up that long 
acknowledged claim to Yuh Heh Springs; and just as hap- 
pily this friend reached out his hand, and said : " Whether 
you succeed or fail, you have already done so much you 
ought to be assisted. Here are five hundred dollars for 
you." 

" May it be a loan ? " 

" In case of great success." And so he laughed again. 
Perhaps you recollect he also laughed that time he found 
me in my sleep, after ten years had passed — declaring " God 
is law ! " 

And now I hid away in Brooklyn, partly for economy, 
partly to be with Julia Coleman (lecturer on temperance 
and dietetics — also editor), but also, just to hide. I knew 
that I must have five hundred dollars more within two 
months, — that half of what I had must go for fruit-jar 
dies, and nearly all the rest for glass, and patent-issues. I 
made a crucial test of spirit-power. No one should know 
I needed money. Not Mr. Eighmie — he had done his part; 



Mountain Paths 359 

not Mr. Kendall — gifts must not be held repeatable. I 
walled myself about. I would not write to any possible 
assister, even by way of courtesy. 

With all my workmen satisfied, I gave no further orders. 
I sought, instead, a business-college, bought a set of books, 
and paid for two weeks' lessons. When I handed out the 
money (all I had except enough for car-fares) I never 
thought of poverty. In fact I took no thought of any- 
thing till someone, close at hand — not clothed in flesh — 
spoke out vehemently: " O, Woman! Great is thy faith! " 
— Then I rejoiced ! 

All you who live by faith (I hope too many to be reck- 
oned up) are well aware of this: Petition leads the way. 
You understand God has a blessing for you; that under- 
standing never hinders prayer. Sometimes you laugh for 
very joy of it, or weep for grief, knowing yourself unworthy. 
And yet you never cease to ask till you are all at peace. 
So day by day I asked, and day by day I waited for reply. 

" Look at this granite cross", a spirit said to me one 
morning. " It wants a solid base before we set it up, and 
that is nearly ready." I saw the firm foundation being 
laid, and close beside, a cross, that, once in place, nor 
time nor tempest could avail to rock. Oh, I was well sus- 
tained with visions, — it was not meant that I should lose 
my faith." 

Another day, Judge Evelyn, who had spoken much to 
others, now spoke to me alone. I had not risen from the 
act of prayer, when he approached and gave me utterance. 
There were no ears to hearken save my own or that of some 
chance robin in the green ailanthus by the open sash. How 
deep the Psychic trance, I cannot say ; and yet I never lost a 
certain consciousness of earthly things. I doubt if spirits 
in their highest heaven lose thought of lower spheres. 

Judge Evelyn said: — 

" My friend, if we procure what now you need, success 
will be assured. But here we pause; we have no right to 
deal with you herein, till you have learned the cost. That 
being shown, we leave you wholly free to drop your work 
if that shall be your choice. Deeply consider this: Can you 
endure? If flesh and spirit prove too weak, if heart and 



360 A Psychic Autobiography 

strength must fail, if even in this hour you shrink from what 
must come, — resign your chosen work. Spirits will hold 
you blameless. From every promise you have made, we 
give you absolution. I shall myself pronounce you free 
from guilt." 

And now indeed I saw. That future self of me was 
climbing mountain-paths, and they were always narrow. 
Sheer heights upon the right, sheer depths upon the left; 
the very chamois might have shunned the trail! Times 
when I passed from sight were many; times when a great 
stone rolled across and touched but did not crush; times 
when deep shadows fell and none would dare to move. I 
could not trace the track. 

I waited long; it seemed that there was nothing more to 
see. Then finally I saw an open space — trees on the 
South and West, low shrubs along the East; and through 
the shrubs, I saw my future self approach and cross the 
open space, and pause. And now appeared a little group 
of women standing very near to me. Then other women 
came in sight, but kept themselves aloof. They came from 
every quarter, following by ones and twos till there were 
thousands, — more than I could count. They seemed to 
look on me with favor; still they kept apart. 

The little group stood still. They pressed so very close 
you might have thought them friends. So passed a certain 
time. But, now I looked upon the near-by faces, there 
were four or five among the group that scowled at me. The 
eyes were full of hatred. That was terrible! They would 
have murdered me it seemed, but had no weapons save 
their stabbing eyes. I had been used to woman's love. 
So far I had not realized a woman's power to hate. I saw 
my future self stand, all accused before these bitter ones, 
who had no cause for enmity, but seemed to think they had. 
Wherein was my defense, save that I meant no wrong? 
Misguided, false or treacherous — wherein was their defense? 
I could not understand. I saw them glide from sight. I 
faced alone the far-off multitude of women — silent as the 
dead ; no stabbing eyes, no angry faces, one and all seemed 
waiting for the end. 

It came: I saw my later self — my pallid, older self, 



Mountain Paths 361 

move staggering toward the East; — move on, and pause, 
and start again with trembling limbs, till I had reached an 
altar. So I fell thereon. Now afterward there was a 
sound of weeping: " See how this woman loved us. She 
is dead ! Would she were yet alive ! " 

The vision passed ; but, still upon my knees, I said : 
"Accept my service even so; I want my work. Master, I 
want my work." But there was no response. 

This was in 1873. My friends, after the mountain paths, 
the dangerous descents, the hidden ways, in 1889, '90 and 
'91, I drank that bitter cup of woman's hate down to the 
loathly dregs, — in sight of many thousand women capable of 
love. The final act is yet to be fulfilled. 

Men say — who think themselves philosophers — that spirits 
in the flesh or those exalted high as Heaven, have not the 
gift and power of prophecy. /* is not true. Down all the 
steeps of earth prophetic voices peal; in every vale prophetic 
echoes linger. God would have us know. 

My father spoke of years when " peace was flowing as a 
river " ; He had the gentler nature. Peace comes to me 
by hours — with many hours between. It came next day: — 
" The Peace that passeth understanding." And in the midst 
of it my guardian came again. "I did not show you all; 
there is a sweeter part I left untold. You ask for no re- 
ward; why should I promise one? There is a life beyond 
all human life; and what will come when you are one with 
us, I have no words to tell." 

And, then a little after, came the simple message: " Child, 
put on your bonnet. Go to Mr. Eighmie." 

The obvious thing to do? — Perhaps. I had not thought 
of him, save by a fleeting memory. Looking afar, through 
that ethereal space — how could I think of mortals? And 
it was all so simple! My patriarchal friend had been 
away from home three weeks, and he had just returned 
that morning, richer than he went away; for he had sold 
an iron mine; and to be richer meant, with him, to be a 
" better man " — a " ten years younger man." Pity wealth 
doesn't always have a like effect! 

Sitting at ease upon his pleasant porch, he rose to wel- 
come me both hands reached out. " I'm very glad to see you. 



362 A Psychic Autobiography 

I want to know just what you're doing. Are you in need 
of money? I want to let you have five hundred dollars. 
It is an honor to be allowed to help your work. Wait; 
let me call my wife and son-in-law. And when they came, 
he said: "Amanda ought to have five hundred dollars right 
away. You are my heirs. Before I let her have it, I want 
your full consent." He did not lose a breath, but hurried 
on: "How will you have it? Shall I draw a single 
cheque or will you come when you have need of money? " 

"A single cheque of course," his wife Naomi said : " Why 
should you bother her?" and let me add that twice 
again this Jeremiah Eighmie came of his own accord and 
said : " I ought to furnish more. Someone might offer it 

from selfish motives. You mustn't get entangled " 

Prepaid? Oh, not a doubt of it! Principal with interest 
and after that " a little usury " — we'll say a " bonus." All 
that in higher places! — down below, I think his heirs will 
get full value when the hour has come. 

Now, in September 1873, having appliances, there was a 
very obvious need. I must devote myself to testing fruits 
and other goods, that many problems might be solved ; and I 
must have a shop — a laboratory, a place for secret work; 
and that would cost perhaps a lot of money; no one could 
estimate the dollars. I counted in as debt all that had been 
so freely furnished; it being understood that payment must 
depend upon prosperity. So far, advances had been volun- 
tary. So they must remain, unless I compromised the pat- 
ents or nullified my necessary independence. I could not 
ask for loans; nor hope that charitable folk (like Mr. H.) 
would furnish means upon a woman's pledge, such as I had 
to offer. 

Perhaps it isn't wise to be quite inconspicuous, if one has 
world-affairs. I went back to the city, almost to the heart 
of it, seeking a permanent home. I rather pride myself upon 
the fact that Alexander Hamilton, during his palmy days, 
had built the statelier portion of the double house wherein 
I lived, at whiles, from 1874 to 1877. Once said to be the 
handsomest residence in town — but now a little old and 
dingy. What of that? Wainscots, lintels, doors and ban- 
isters were all mahogany, mantels Italian marble; and a 



Mountain Paths 363 

noble stairway let me pass along the quiet further hall to 
find my pleasant room — curtained with century-old wisteria- 
vines flung over from the church yard. Everybody knows 
St. John's; not everybody knows the Laight Street House. 
It might have come in truth to be a shrine, save for a wanton 
bullet. Therein John Adams was regaled on melons at the 
breakfast table, and wondered at the luxury, — so wrote to 
Abigail advising melons; and let us hope that Massachu- 
setts yielded an abundance, so that those twain might never 
murmur, after the manner of the Israelites? " For lack of 
them our souls are dried away!" We others were regaled 
on Graham-water-gems and grape-juice — that is, those of 
us who chose ambrosial diet. Maybe that conduced to 
Psychic apperception. 

Anyway, about September loth, one morning I awoke 
with all my outward senses not obliterated (mind you!), 
only in abeyance. This is what I saw, and partly under- 
stood. Myself upon a narrow mountain-path, a steep-set 
cliff above, sheer depths below, — one slight mis-step would 
send me down forever. Now there was dropped across 
the ledge above, suspended by a hempen rope, a bag of gold. 
Not that I saw the gold, shut in and wound about to keep the 
mouth from opening — only I fully realized that it was there, 
and that, if I should clutch and hold, strong hands above 
would draw me up to broader walking places. Just for a mo- 
ment I was glad ; but then a spirit said — not from above, but 
from the space between. " Is your courage great enough 
to step around this heavy bag of gold — not even touching 
it — and pass along, alone, upon the narrow path?" 

" How can I step around it? The way is only wide 
enough for my two feet ; I should be sure to fall." 

" But have you courage?" 

" Yes ; although there seems no possible room, I'll take 
the step — if that is what you want." 

" That is what we want." And so the vision passed. 

Now this was Sunday morning: A gentleman at leisure 
came and introduced himself : " I've heard of you through 

Mr. H ; and he has heard of you through Mr. 

Rawlinson." " I come from Mr. H ; I saw him 

yesterday, and I shall visit him again today. He says he 



364 A Psychic Autobiography 

has become convinced that God. is with you. True, he 
doubted first, but he is ready now to furnish money, — all you 
need, I judge. What shall I say to him? He wants to 
know." 

I had no thought of incivility. I said what I was bound 
to say: " God doesn't want his money. Tell him so." I 
saw no other way to carry on my work, only to clutch and 
hold that bag of gold; yet stepped around it, hardly with a 
dizziness, and did not fear to fall. 

A few days after that came word from Jennie Kendall: 
" My brother wants to see the process. Please come without 
delay." 

I packed my trunk. It held my " house-hold apparatus," 
vessels for preserving and all appurtenances. I left for 
Providence on Saturday afternoon. Times are " altered 
perfectly since then," no doubt; but there was being carried 
on a plundering scheme; and trunks were disappearing right 
and left; no one could trace them out. Mine also disap- 
peared. I went to get my check exchanged; men said it 
wasn't there. I urged a search, — they " sassed " me, every 
one of them; and one cried out " Madam, you've just a 
minute. Go to the basement. There's a man will see to it." 
This other said : " I'll see to it. Give me your check and run. 
Cars start in thirty seconds." A good long run at that. 
I caught the moving train, and started off — trunk left, and 
not a check ! 

Arrived in Providence, I led Miss Kendall all along the 
platform thinking (as a woman thinks!) ; " Perhaps it had 
been sent ahead before I got there, — being labeled, 'Provi- 
dence.' " A gentleman was tramping up and down : 
"What! Have you lost your trunk? You'll never get 
it in the world. I've waited here three days for my two 
trunks, and telegraphed to every point along the road. 
They're full of valuable things; they're worth a fortune. 
But they're lost ! And so is yours." 

All this we told to Mr. Kendall at the supper table. He 
said : " The man was right. You'll never get your trunk. 
You hav'n't even a check to show for it. You'll have to be 
resigned." 

"Look here!" I said in haste. "God has furnished 



Mountain Paths 365 

means to me, because I prayed with faith. He sent me 
helpers so that I could do just what you ask of me; — prove 
that I have a beautiful new process for preserving fruits 
and whatsoever else we demonstrate. I have one working 
apparatus only; that is in my trunk. Be sure it isn't lost." 

" It certainly is lost beyond recovery." 

" Do you suppose that I have asked for Heavenly help 
to get so much accomplished, and had my prayers responded 
to in every case, only to be defrauded of results? What- 
ever else may happen, rest assured I shall not lose my trunk." 

" Suppose you do. Then what about your faith? Come 
now! Let's make a test of this! Not that I mean to be 
discouraging; — but let us pit your faith against my un- 
belief. Whoever loses makes acknowledgment. Will you 
consent to that? " 

" I would; but candidly, it isn't faith with me, — its know- 
ledge. I absolutely know God will not let me lose my 
trunk." 

How could a sensible, straight-forward business man, who 
would not step, save on the solid ground, follow an ignis 
fatuus over such a swamp, however starred with flowers? 
He watched me furtively at Sunday dinner: "Confess; 
you're just a little worried. Oh you don't betray it, I 
admit ! But come now ! Are you absolutely sure ? " 

So sure, I only laughed. 

On Monday morning some one, unseen, awakened me in 
evident haste: "Get up at once and you shall find your 
trunk." I heard the city clock strike out the hour, and it 
was five. The silver sound was no more clear to mortal 
sense than were those ringing words to Psychic understand- 
ing. Believe me they were heard, even by the ears that 
hear. 

I dressed with speed ; I tiptoed down the stairs, I 
softly drew the bolts, and turned the key, and gently closed 
the door. What then? There came no further message. 
I thought: "If I must find the depot, two miles off, I 
hav'n't strength to walk, nor do I know the way." And 
yet I walked along on Liberty for half a block, turned the 
first corner, walked a half block further, looked up an alley, 
saw a waiting wagon, standing by an open door, — made for 



366 A Psychic Autobiography 

the door, went in and found a monstrous room containing 
many hundred trunks (all sent astray feloniously, no doubt), 
walked on, and laid my hand upon my trunk right in the 
center, evidently just brought in! The wagoner drove 
away. 

Disgorgement isn't easy to an anaconda. We had an 
office scene at nine o'clock. " Madame, no check, no trunk." 
" I will identify the baggage. It has my name. I'll go 
and point it out." " That can't be done. Bring us a 
check; — there's nothing more to say." "Oh, yes, there is! 
Walk through that further door and I shall follow you 
and lay my hand upon my trunk. You dare not keep it 

back " Perhaps I hypnotized the fellow. I fear I 

" fixed him with a glittering eye " ; and he obeyed me " like 
a three years' child." Alas, for me, if only meekness may 
inherit Heaven! And yet, without an underself at times, 
what would a body do? 

No man could be more sternly practical than Mr. Ken- 
dall — more averse to all that " willn't wash." But this 
small incident was such a vital fact, it touched him to the 
quick; and I had reason to be very glad I had not lost my 
trunk. 

Straightway I set my " house-hold apparatus " up — good 
for six jars instead of that inevitable single laboratory flask. 
And, by the way, I opened one of those small flasks at 
supper-time (pine apple if you please — put up six months 
before, by Dr. Cooley's son, eleven years of age.) 

So Mr. Kendall, busiest of men, took time to watch the 
process, — saw the escaping air burst open plums and grapes 
and breathe its way in beads through ruddy apple skins ; saw 
fluid take its place and boil in vacuo; also he had the goods 
to keep for better proof. 

But oh I had to travel long and far and wearily, ere I 
could plan a way to shut five times as many jars from sight 
and carry on all steps of that exacting process merely by 
turning valves, and, after that, to seal them perfectly and 
leisurely, nor let the air get in! But not by any means so 
long and far, to turn you out cooked meats and novelties 
on which the vacuum had done its perfect work to give you 
perfect food! However, that's to show. 



Mountain Paths 367 

This is a Psychic story; but you and I and all, may walk 
on mountain-paths, beside the sheer abysses, on to eternal 
life, if we are true in heart, and firm of step, and not afraid 
to trust. Or say that we are lower down — lost in the wil- 
derness — pillars of fire may lead, and never lead astray. 
But though the Psychic faculty with me became a columned 
flame, it did not melt confronting cliffs, nor burn one spiny 
shrub of all that rent my flesh. How can you know that 
spirits guided me, unless I show the road ? I walked on 
solid earth and rock, through many perilous ways. These 
I must let you see by glimpses here and there — but always 
by mirage. They fade away in air; but light remains. I 
pray you see the light above the toilsome way. 

Well then, to work! To work! — that is the primal 
need. Most happily for me, it was agreed at Mr. Kendall's 
instance, that I should have a private working-place at 
Watertown, aided at every need, — his brother Francis and 
his nephew John co-operants, and he to furnish means. 
To give me chance to work and yet not feel an absolute 
dependence, this was indicated: that should there ever come 
a time for bargaining, New England much desired a better 
green-corn process, and possibly the method might apply to 
oysters. " Should you succeed in canning these uncooked, 
we'll take New England, sharing profits equally. In any 
case we'll ask for nothing more." 

Truly, success along these lines was hypothetical — hardly 
presumable. We had no written contract ; none was needed. 
These were not birds of prey; they lacked the beaks and 
talons. I was the foremost one they chose to benefit. No 

doubt a certain Mr. H had motives just as kind. 

But having opened up for me a sack of gold, he would have 
backed himself against the door of Heaven, for fear of 
" special help." 

And, by the way, there was a flask of green corn, even 
then, in Dr. Cooley's laboratory. He opened it, we ate 
of it in Dr. Wood's hotel on Laight St., New Year's Day; — 
" Sweet as a rose " was Francis Kendall's verdict. More- 
over there had been a flask of uncooked beef, — not spoiled 
at all when opened. That argued for the oyster possibly. 

I hope you've not forgotten what was promised me in 



368 A Psychic Autobiography 

April: "All the flowers you want upon your birth-day." 
Much I had thought of that the seasons through, but never 
dared to speak. That was to be my precious token — my one 
bouquet, flung from the galleries across the foot-lights, show- 
ing me approved. In all that time I had no flowers but 
once, and those were Michaelmas daisies, picked in open 
field beside the Sound. Thither had come my Clifton 
friends the Rawlinson's, with Susie Lane and glad Miss 
Phillips (air-uplifted from the couch I told you of and walk- 
ing miles on any slight occasion ) ; there I had welcomed them. 
No doubt they also cared for flowers; not even a marigold 
was in the gardens; and in October, frost had come and 
daisy seeds were flying all about. 

Howbeit, my friends sent in a messenger : " Come out ; 
we want to celebrate your birth-day, remembering how you 
left us just a year before — God being with you even to this 
hour. Come out and keep our feast! " That was the very 
spirit of the message. I had no right to purchase flowers 
for self, nor even for these whose chiefest luxury was com- 
mon bread. I laughed in heart ! " Now, spirits, find a 
way ! " and did not doubt in heart but that they would. 

October 17th, I spent the whole forenoon among the 
work-shops. Going home for dinner (due at two) I lifted 
up my hand and stopped a Broadway omnibus. " It seems 
to me this is the way I ought to go;" I said: and wondered 
why. Arrived on Union Square, I thought : " What am I do- 
ing here — all off the track? " And so I called a halt. Alight- 
ing, standing back as in a dream, I meditated : " There must 
be something that I ought to do. I can't imagine what ! " 
No viewless friend suggested anything; nor did I stir at all, 
till all at once it came to me quite as a recollection : "I 
promised Mrs. Keyser, months ago, that I would visit her. 
Didn't she say they lived near Union Square? I've been 
uncivil; I shall go and make apologies." And so I looked 
them up. 

A wagonette was at the door. Mr. and Mrs. Keyser 
met me in the hall, ready for journeying. What did they 
care about my incivility? They greeted me as cordially as 
human heart could wish: "You're just in time. We're 



Mountain Paths 369 

going to our country house to stay a week; and you are 
going with us." 

" Oh, that's impossible." 

" Not in the least. We'll take you off by force." 

" You might ; but certain friends of mine will celebrate 
my birthday Sunday. Today is Friday. I must go to 
them tomorrow afternoon. Nothing must keep me back." 

"Give me their address," Mr. Keyser said: "We'll help 
the celebration. We'll send you flowers." 

I hardly dared to breathe — much less to tell my story. 
But anyway, next afternoon my friend the clergyman, 
saluted me : "A great white box has come to me for you." 

"A great white box ! " — And half that blessed Sunday, I 
spent arranging flowers. I had three little girls about me, 
they, as well as I, all wonder and delight. Oh, beautiful 
exotics; They made me think of those I saw when I was 
dreaming, yet a child myself. " These are the flowers that 
you are going to plant." I did not know the names of 
these, more than of those; nor could I count their num- 
bers; — more hot-house beauties than I ever had all put to- 
gether, both before and since ; enough to bury me full deep — 
and if I could be buried! 

What do you say to that? 

Let me not triumph altogether; once I was rebuked. 
There came a mood upon me; half I thought it was induced 
by spirits. Now I know it was. I had a fault — I did not 
call it so, I carried it with pride; but it had risen up and 
rent me. None had done me wrong; instead I recognized 
my very underself, and would have hated it, but had not 
power. You know the way; and how you cling to that 
which must go over-board and yet belongs to you! What? 
Lose it in the sea? And after it you plunge! 

Well, in the thick of that I walked along Broadway, 
near , to St. Paul's; and there I saw, just balanced on the 
curb, about to cross right in the flare and glare, a hideous 
object — shocking to the sense, and shocking to the soul. A 
woman, quite erect and not so very old, clothed in the rags 
of utter poverty. Not altogether clothed; a little way 
above the gaping stogas, nearly to the knees, the limbs were 
bare and chapped with winter winds, though May was close 



370 A Psychic Autobiography 

at hand. I felt an instant's bleeding at the heart; my soul 
took time to say: "There is a woman isolated, desolate! 
In all the world no human being loves her. Pitiful ! Most 
pitiful ! " 

With that I took one of our whilom postal-scrips out of 
my purse, and reached around and put it in her hand. 
She whirled and clutched my arm: I would not look; I 
dragged myself away. " No, No ! " — my underself pro- 
tested : " I'm in too deep myself to draw another out." 
And so I swept along, and certainly had quite forgotten 
her three seconds after that. For I was under billows! 
I could not lift the head, save for an instant's breath. How 
could I reach for her? So down I plunged again, I knew 
not how or why, nor yet how deep. Enough that I was 
under. 

So home to dinner; or at least to shut myself away and 
have it out with Heaven. I locked my door, slipped off my 
wrap, and stood right in the center of my pleasant room in 
dreariness, even I, whom God had blessed beyond all thought 
or hope. What did I want? Nothing, I think, only to 
fling aside that underself as I had flung my coat. I said: 
" Now that I think of it, I hav'n't praj^ed for self alone 
since I began to pray for fallen women. That is not fair. 
I am God's daughter just as much as they. And that may 
be the very thing He wants, — that I should pray for me." 

I fell upon my knees. All personal desire, I spoke and 
dared to speak: "Thou Infinite, in whom I live and 
move " — then paused. If I had anything in mind to ask 
for self, it never found a voice, or then or afterward. 

Two beautiful white arms — strong arms, angelic arms — ■ 
swept into sight, and two white hands, no doubt well used 
to bearing burdens, set within my reach one I had seen be- 
fore: A woman hideous to sight, erect not altogether old, 
hung around with filthy rags that could not cover all her 
nakedness; a woman isolated from her kind, unloved, un- 
loving, desolate of grace, a high-way creature — one who 
knew the slough and made her bed therein. And clear 
to Psychic sense as any service bell, a voice rang out: 

" Which needs to be prayed for most, — you or she? " 

First I was all ashamed. And then my soul rose up from 



Mountain Paths 371 

its abasement, so that I cried aloud: "Lord, not myself! 
Oh, nothing for myself! Have I not always walked among 
the lilies? Clean ways and sweet for me! O, choose the 
clean for her! " 

She passed from sight. My soul went out to find her, — 
whether in open road or ditch! went crying from afar: 
" My sister, here is one who loves you ! Turn and hear 
and understand! You shall not be alone! " 

Then for an hour I strove with God. I would not be 
denied : " O let her know that she is loved ! Save her 
and save her speedily! Cleanse her. O, make her clean! 
O, leave her not alone! " And even so He answered me: 
" Daughter the hour is near. Her great salvation comes ! " 

Friends, when the full eternal tides roll in, and turn 
again and bear my soul away, I shall not realize a sweeter 
ecstasy than this: To know the lost are saved! 



8 


°i 



XXX 

CREVASSES AND CANONS. 

LD fashioned folk averred that sunshine 
streaming through a window upon a blaz- 
ing hearth deadened the fire; — they drew 
the curtains down. If they were right or 
wrong let chemists prove; but this I hold 
as truth : The Psychic light that floods the 
human brain puts out no fires of thought. 
It is not meant in Heaven that we should have no radiance 
on earth, save what our fagots give, though they be resinous 
and sweet in burning — cut from Lebanon's top. Nor is it 
meant to drive out natural warmth with supernatural glory. 
To put this plainly into words, many have thought the surest 
way of getting spiritual revelation, is by obliteration of the 
revelator — as in hypnotic sleep. They deeply err; but hap- 
pily the deepest slumberer but plays, as children do, at " being 
dead" ; and even so eternal life throbs on, and revelations 
come. No less, we'll keep awake and keep our mortal fires 
alive, nor draw one curtain down. 

If then I write of common earth affairs, I cry you mercy. 
These will have significance I trust to you as well as me. 
They were the very roots that in the course of time would 
make it possible for me to hand you Psychic flowers — 
moulded from clay, yet steeped in cosmic light. 

Now, by the river Charles in Watertown, almost within 
the sound of Boston bells, my friends, the Kendalls — sire 
and son — arranged my working room. 

We well conceived that problems must be solved, and 
theories confirmed or proved untenable, but I, at least — who 
saw a multitude of doubts appear, like specters of the 
Brocken — kept on my way and would not be afraid. It 
seems I had some natural aptitude for mechanism, or rather 
for adapting means to ends; so that in introducing novel- 

372 



Crevasses and Canons 373 

ties among my working men, I had not learned of them so 
much as they had learned of me. Nor did I think of need- 
ing further help from Dr. Cooley. He had done his part — 
being a very able physicist; but after all, the sole re- 
sponsibility was mine. Still, when my friends proposed en- 
gaging him to come and start us off, I gave assent at once, 
on their account, and yielded up my place. 

Most kindly Dr. Cooley came and took control — not as a 
mechanist but as a scientist. For my immediate part, so 
many of my jars were poorly tooled, with covers badly 
pressed, all thought it best that I should hurry off to Pitts- 
burg for a better make. So, while I wandered off, three 
gentlemen went bravely on and did the things they would. 

It chanced in traveling (I need to speak of this) that I 
foregathered with a bride and groom, returning home after 
a wedding trip to Boston. They would not be denied but 
I must visit them at Brady's Bend ; so finding I must wait 
some days before my moulds were mended, I gladly sought 
them out. (Always you trust a Pennsylvanian for hos- 
pitality.) 

One day we drove across the hills ten miles away, to see 
a stream of oil, just piped the night before, pour out from 
"caverns measureless to man." (Alas! for Kubla Khan, 
if such the odor of that " sacred river! ") This was the first 
crude oil that I had seen, and it reminded me that I had 
promised Hibbler and Dorrflinger (glass manufacturers of 
Brooklyn) that I would " think about " their " glory hole," 
and how to heat it safely with petroleum instead of tar. 
Now was the time to think — at least, to learn. I questioned 
closely: " Is there any way of burning it with safety? " 

It seemed that men had fed it to their furnaces by force 
of gravity, and under "rule of thumb," very disastrously; 
had soaked it up through wicks, had boxed it in with broken 
bricks, had floated it full breadth on water tanks, had sent 
it twisting in through red-hot serpent-pipes, had housed it 
close in separate generators — raging hot, gotten themselves 
blown up or maimed by various ingenuities, and last of all 
were steaming it and squirting it to keep their fires ablaze. 

And, by the bye, their " steam jet " burners, " atomizers " 
and the like, have numbered many thousands, hard to count 



374 A Psychic Autobiography 

as mussels on a beach, washed in by every wave. And pat- 
ented! — just change a thread, and swerve a line, and tip 
and turn and twist about though but a hair's breadth either 
way — you get a patent. All are serviceable, more or less; 
not one of them is mine. 

So back to Watertown. Three weeks had passed and all 
had been at work — it seemed to little purpose. That which 
had been done but emphasized an uttermost necessity. What 
more remained to do must wholly rest with me, since Dr. 
Cooley's time was up and he was forced to leave. I cannot 
say my friends were very sanguine. Discouragement was 
in the atmosphere. No one declared it openly (how kind 
these Kendalls were!) but it was plain that should I fail 
to do what had not yet been done, I could not ask for fur- 
ther tolerance. Cast down in such a deep crevasse as that — 
my vaunted faith forevermore discredited — who then could 
rescue me? 

Now I had used my " house-hold apparatus " only in Mr. 
Henry Kendall's kitchen. Dr. Cooley had not tried it till 
he came to Watertown, nor handled in the laboratory, more 
than one small flask at once — succeeding so by singular 
dexterity. There was a grievous fault, I had discovered, 
not quite prohibitive for canning fruits, as had been shown, 
but rendering even that too difficult for profitable use. This 
fault must be eliminated. But w T ho eliminates a law of 
Physics? Well then, it must be dodged. And I have no- 
ticed this: Men, who are striving to invent, will take an 
obstacle as though it were a hurdle; leap it if they can, or 
otherwise declare the race impossible. But I had dodged 
a dozen obstacles already and slipped around them rather 
prettily — being a simple woman. Better to be adroit than 
risk a broken neck. 

Please not to mind my " talking shop " a little — not for 
very long. This is to let you guess that even the greatest 
Physicist — Huxley himself — might profit now and then, 
right in the face of physical law, by some slight Psychic 
squint; as I did peradventure — leaving you to judge. 

We had by Dr. Cooley's art, a vacuum-chamber far be- 
j^ond a vacuum-pump for admirable work such as we had 
to do. That had to be our guarantee and proof of excel- 



Crevasses and Canons 375 

lence for all the rest. We had his " transfer " one straight 
pipe with sidewise-branching tubes, permitting equal fluid- 
distribution, This had an upward pipe for vacuum connec- 
tion, and, at the further end, a downward pipe for taking 
fluid up by atmospheric pressure, two stopcocks — nothing 
more. We had my jars, well sealed save for a central ori- 
fice for tube connection (sealed after work was done) ; I had 
devices for attaching jars to tubes, and, somewhat to my 
credit, let us say, we did not have a single leaking joint. 
Quite possible to get and hold secure a 29 inch vacuum, 
hour after hour. Why should we not succeed? 

But even so, my "house-hold apparatus" (the only *-"• 
tory apparatus yet in sight), looked at without a sqv „., 
was but a dismal failure. This was the way of it: First 
thing we filled our jars with goods to be preserved, screwed 
them in place and turned the vacuum on to rend the cells 
and let the air escape. We gave abundant time; then sent 
our fluid in at intervals, preventing it from going all astray, 
by shutting off the vacuum-cylinder. It partly went astray 
in any case ; finding a better vacuum in the pipes than in the 
jars, some of it hung suspended ready to be caught away on 
any slight pretense. 

But did you ever see a water-spout? Suppose you boil 
in vacuo, and watch the up-take. Six water-spouts I used 
to see — boiling at 80 Fahrenheit, with all my fluid in. Or 
call them what you please, they took that fluid up by threads 
and skeins — you saw it spin away. There was a remedy, 
of course, — shut off the vacuum. But how about that last 
fine trace of oxygen so potent for destruction? Depend 
upon the pipes? There's no more vacuum there than in the 
jars for they are full of fluid. 

I wrote to Dr. Cooley : " Unless there be a way devised 
for keeping safe our fluids, under the highest vacuum, there 
cannot be success. Can you devise a way? " He answered 
me: "Dexterity; there is no other way." 

"Dexterity!" Well, in the work-shop, that had failed 
with him; and how could it suffice with me, or perad- 
venture, housewives, factory girls, and all the common run 
of working folk ? These friends, for all their trouble, asked 
the privilege of canning corn and oysters; and this they'd got 



376 A Psychic Autobiography 

to have if so they willed, though all the laws of Physics 
should array themselves against my vigilant will. My 
mother, at the age of four, was asked to lift the house. She 
thought it really moved. Of course, it did, for force is 
never wasted. Something of this I have inherited — not to 
be daunted whatsoever chance. And so I set myself to 
make that vacuum serve, as viewless Ariel did, with all 
docility, and bring my ship ashore whatever wind should 
blow. 

Too late for green corn; so I called for oysters. They 
had been tried and shown to be unmanageable. Time after 
'' le I found them so myself. A peaceable folk they are. 
x _.ey'll let themselves be eaten, you observe, with much 
tranquility; but to be canned is quite another matter. Up 
they rose under the vacuum; they magnified themselves! 
Rather than lose their air (if you'll excuse a rampant simile), 
they fought like bulls of Bashan. Add fluid — why, you 
maddened them. They blocked the orifice; they tore them- 
selves ; they went in fragments up along the pipes ; they lost 
their air (almost) and lost themselves in vacuous space, from 
which they issued but to feed the eels. 

Well, it was bad enough to lose my fluids; but when the 
solids took to flying after, something must be done and that 
right speedily. We'll say a change in process first of all. 
And so I let my oysters poise themselves on tip-toe for an 
hour or more and would not let them drink. The air within 
themselves was straining to escape through those disten- 
sible films, and yet they would not break. Astonishing the 
space one creature filled ! Perhaps you've heard that should 
you chance to get an oyster in the windpipe he leaves you 
not one fighting chance for life ! So you'll be glad to know, 
I brought him low and made him small again. I only made 
him just a little warm — 90 degrees or thereabouts. Then 
having seen him shrink and drop all in a minute utterly 
cast down, I gave him water-floods to swell himself withal. 
I wish you could have seen that upward rush of air and 
vapor bubbles, silver white and beautiful. If you had 
brought me out of Italy, Queen Margharita's famous pearls, 
my faith, I wouldn't have exchanged one bubble for the 
whole of them. 



Crevasses and Canons 377 

Well, I had saved my solids anyway; and now to save 
my fluids. I woke, one happy dawn, aware of something 
strange. I realized an etching on my brain that had been 
traced in sleep, — by whom I did not guess. I only said: 
" Now this will rescue me." What I had seen, I sketched 
before the breakfast hour, and handing out the sketch to 
Mr. Kendall asked to have our apparatus taken down, at 
once and modified according to the plan. He said at supper 
time: "The work is done and everything in place." So 
down I went at six o'clock next morning to find my Psychic 
etching visualized, and made to serve my will. 

Now this is what I saw : The " Transfer " still in 
place ; its upward pipe connecting with a transverse one, and 
both, as one, connecting with the vacuum chamber — either 
or both detachable, at will; the downward pipe upon the 
under side, used for injecting fluid, taken out; another in 
its place, set horizontally and guarded with a stop-cock at 
the bend ; a six quart cylinder, having a downward pipe for 
taking fluid in, an upward pipe, at top, that turned and led 
along to join the upper transfer pipe as I have said, and 
further on to enter the " Exhauster " both as one. Now 
you can see that, every stopcock being open save the one 
below for letting in the fluid, the vacuum draught was 
equal — jars and little cylinder all subject to the same ex- 
hausting power — the larger cylinder. 

I looked upon it all, and knew no more than this: That 
I must set my jars in place, must send my fluid up into the 
little cylinder, and let the vacuum work. Fast as the air 
went up from out the goods to be preserved, so fast it bub- 
bled up within the fluid-cylinder and fled in unison. Here 
then, would be an airless fluid for supply whenever needed, 
provided it should choose to flow along that horizontal pipe 
and down into the jars — you having turned the: cock. And 
what should hinder? Gravity sufficed. 

I nearly filled my jars. No drop had found its way 
along the upper pipes ; even the body of the " transfer," 
above the curving tubes that met the jars, was void of fluid. 
In the " Feeder " as I named my little cylinder, lay all I 
needed for supply at last, when I should boil in vacuo and 
need to fill my jars top-full — still subject to a vacuum till 



378 A Psychic Autobiography 

all the work was done, and it was time to take away and 
seal. No fluid-column lurked above to snatch a whirling 
thread, lead off a water-spout and so denude my goods. 

Yet there was one below: It lay in wait to pull the fluids 
back along the road they traveled going down. How should 
I keep them down? Ask any Physicist: He'll say: "They 
must obey the law. You cannot hold them back. He will 
not even whisper : " Try dexterity." Not so could Na- 
ture's will be contravened. 

How then? I knew the law; no less I kept my faith. 
The Psychic part of me refused to be afraid. It made de- 
mand upon the obvious law that it should turn aside and 
let another take its place — some inner, physical law, con- 
cealed as yet, but having power to act. I said to one: 
" You shall not draw the fluids up ; / choose they shall de- 
scend;" And to the other: "Bring the fluids down and 
while I boil, keep filling up the jars and feeding tubes, with 
still the vacuum on." 

A great absurdity! No scientist alive but would have 
laughed at me ! But please you understand ! 

Well, so I boiled in vacuo at 90 Fahrenheit — you know 
that never cooks. And when the time sufficed I shut the 
larger vacuum off, and utilized the lesser one — that is: the 
vacuum-space within the little cylinder above its fluid-space 
from which the jars must all be fed, if they were ever filled. 
I planned to make my feeder serve a double purpose — air 
and vapor entering at the top alone, and the cold fluid 
pushing down against the boiling fluid in the jars. The 
greater pressure yielding to the less? — Well, not in fact. I 
waited for that undiscovered law. I laid my hand upon 
the stop-cock of the horizontal pipe (choke-full of airless 
fluid sure to snatch and lift) ; I did not open it at once. 
I said : " I'll wait four minutes." No one told me I must 
wait four minutes. I knew no reason why. I only knew 
by Psychic sense, that I must keep the time. I watched the 
clock, and when the time expired, drew one deep breath, 
opened the cock and said : " If now the fluid come, I shall 
praise God." There was not time to draw another breath 
before it came. It trickled into every jar alike; it filled 
them brimming full. I shut away the emptied cylinder and 



Crevasses and Canons 379 

fell upon my knees; for God was there, and I was filled 
with awe. 

I rose to end the test. I boiled in vacuo till not the slight- 
est trace of air could possible remain, and sent no fluid off. 
Not only had I magnified my process, I had redeemed it 
from an imminent death. Whatever food might be pre- 
servable by air exhaustion, coupled with fluid substitution, 
I need not set aside. 

What would have happened if I had turned the valve 
upon the instant, not looking at the clock to let four minutes 
pass before the act? John Kendall tried that very thing; 
this is what came about. The little horizontal pipe, be- 
tween the jars and feeder, caught at the dashed up spray, 
and made a central axis in the mouth of every jar that 
whirled the contents out. The empty feeder had the better 
vacuum; but being filled anew with vapor-yielding fluid, 
lost all governing power. For now the better vacuum was 
in the jars; so up and out along the horizontal upper pipe, 
and down again to fill six vessels underneath, the fluid came. 
Just keep the boiling up and back it rushed — a sort of reel — 
dance, wait awhile and dance again ! 

What did four minutes do? During that time the vapor 
from the boiling fluid (nothing more) stole up along the 
upper pipes — the main exhauster being shut away — and set- 
tled in the feeder. Now vapor has a pressure of its own. 
That's quite believable, for we have learned that even light 
exerts continuous pressure. This vapor lying on the fluid 
surface (not dissolving into dew) had quite sufficient power 
to send the fluid down. Or rather there was no more 
vacuum above than down below; and so we had the law of 
gravity in full control. 

But now again; I thought, just for convenient work, 
it might be well to put the feeder at the other end; and 
though I caught the notion back and said it wouldn't do, we 
tried it so. There was no flow of fluid either way. This 
was the one result I had foreseen. The little pipe that 
should have filled the jars from underneath the transfer 
was eighteen inches long instead of three, and friction inter- 
fered, — it stopped the downward run. We set our feeder 
back in haste and all was well again. And I suppose that 



380 A Psychic Autobiography 

no inventor — physicist, or Psychist — could have accomplished 
that desired result by any other means. 

This then you understand: Shut deep in that unclimbable 
crevasse, there fell close to my hand a rescuing rope. 
" And if it came by some fortuitous chance, 
We'll guess as much, too, for the universe." 
Even so it came about that, after many years of futile 
effort and expenditure upon the part of others, that which 
they had sought so ardently was mine; — achieved with no 
more money-cost than might have served to build a laborer's 
cottage. Here was the basis of a mammoth pure-food In- 
dustry, a traffic in the very means of life. Uncooked or 
cooked or dessicated, all destructive elements withdrawn, 
and none thrown in upon pretence of need for preserva- 
tion — such was to be the work that I must plan for, pray 
for, toil for. How much might be involved I could not 
know. Meantime here was in hand one veritable process — 
verified, but far from ready for commercial use. I knew 
right well that other minds than those that dwell in flesh 
had made it possible for me to have and hold, by legal right, 
a very great, good gift for my behoof and people's use and 
profit. 

A terminable right, you say? Assuredly so; and well 
it was and is that while I stumbled on, achieving point by 
point with long delays, I claimed no further rights for many 
years; and even now; with five controlling patents to the 
good, others are in reserve. 

Once in my early life I had this dream: It seemed to 
me that I was walking on the strand in search of precious 
stones, and mother came and watched me till I said: " It 
seems to me that there are diamonds here." Therewith 
she came and knelt beside me, helping me to look. Now 
there were many pebbles, colored prettily, and some of them 
were glittering as bits of broken quartz; we picked them up 
and talked of them, but cast them all away. 

At last we heard familiar voices calling : " Mother ! 
Amanda! Come away. There's nothing by the sea worth 
looking at. Yonder there is a grave-yard that is full of 
flowers, — a lovely place to ramble in. Come, walk with us, 



Crevasses and Canons 381 

for we are going there and mean to build a home among 
the graves, where all of us may live, and be at peace." 

Then mother rose and said to me: " Maybe we'd better 
go." But I refused ; and very slowly and reluctantly she 
moved away, but still kept looking back, long as she kept 
in sight. So I was left alone. But presently, I knew not 
how or why, I found myself far out among the waves. 
They tossed me high and dropped me low, they whirled 
me here and there; but I was not engulfed. After a breath- 
less time, they flung me up against a spur of some deep 
rooted rock, round which I cast my arm. And clinging so, 
as one who knows that he must nevermore let go, I knew 
that I was safe whatever floods assailed. 

Now while I brought my other hand out from among the 
waves, lo, there had lodged therein a wonderful blue glit- 
tering thing, that when I held it up on open palm, seemed 
a great diamond of the underworld, encolored as the sky. 
One called from over-head : " Truth : You have found 
it." Then I looked above and saw celestial forms with 
waving hands, where angels went and came. So even in 
my sleep I understood that they had suffered me almost to 
perish — otherwise I had not won their gift. I could not 
choose but cling about my rock and hold my diamond safe. 

All this I held to mean that verity of spirit-intercourse 
that I was searching for through briny waves, while others 
walked in grave-yards beautified with flowers thinking about 
their dead. And oh, to keep that safe that I had won 
through stress, till sea and land should pass! And oh, to 
have it said of me in Heaven: " She was not recreant to 
any trust." 

But dropping parables and dreams and tropes, here was 
a trust indeed ! Here was my promised work made evident 
in part — made mine by very grace of God, who gave His 
ministers a charge concerning me that I should do his will. 
Do I affirm too much? I pray you bear with me. Not 
without ample warrant do I say that disembodied spirits 
wrought with me, and made me one with them for right- 
eous purposes. It was not possible at any time that I should 
see the height and breadth of this my chosen work; they 
are not seen today, though strong foundations wait the 



382 A Psychic Autobiography 

builded edifice and there are " stones cast down upon the 
plain " to gather up again that men may there abide. So 
please you still read on an hour or two; hear the conclusion 
of the matter," far as it concludes. But nothing ever ends. 

My faithful friends, father and son, had for a double 
season — half-a-year — put other plans aside, save those I had 
in hand. To still devote themselves would call for service 
and expenditure beyond their power to grant though not 
beyond their will. We halted, all of us, to see what might 
be done. Winter precluded work for me, and forced me 
back to semi-tropical New York. But ere I went, I had 
a great desire to be instructed from a higher source than 
speech of mortal lips, even as I had been before, and found 
the counsel sweet. Truly, though I had seen the gold 
within my mining claim, there lacked the streams and sluices. 
How should I sift it out? 

Before I left we rode a long way off to find a green corn 
canning place, whose owners paid two cents per can in 
royalties for privilege of cooking many hours. Discoverers 
of the method had become stout millionaires thereby, and 
dealers longed for patent expiration. Up to that date, none 
had conceived the wickedness of using chemicals, as after- 
ward men did. We were assured that equal royalties upon 
a better process — no less economical — would joyfully be paid, 
and we too rank among the princes. 

Well, what then? Reformatories, Homes for erring 
women, House-holds for the little ones, Cures for the 
richer invalids earning the means of maintenance for God's 
deserving poor — who needed healing not a whit the less; 
and all of these built round those Yuh Heh Springs spirits 
had found and claimed in equal partnership with mortals — 
share and share alike! 

All this might be, if but a single product, thrown in 
honest hands, might have commercial swing in one small 
province — out of all the land. After this manner patentees 
are prone to reason, people say; but, for myself, I came of 
practical folk not given to speculation. Even that one who 
thought about perpetual motion, put all his bridges up with- 
out a swaying plank. Oh, yes! I had the framework of 



Crevasses and Canons 383 

a mighty bridge in truth, but who would help me set it on 
the piers, and who would haul the planks? 

Well, well! I waited for a Heavenly heliograph! What 
could I do besides? For I had pledged myself, you may 
remember, — nay, had been commanded of the angelhood 
and God — to bear this very burden safely on, till I should 
reach the cross set far and white among the snows of Death. 
So, using common speech, I could not sell, hypothecate nor 
put away from me in any way this first invention, made my 
own after that solemn hour! A beauteous babe, so her- 
alded of Heaven, even the sword of Solomon must not 
divide. 

Across the road from where the earliest Puritans were 
laid to rest in Watertown there stood a ruined manse 

"A residence for woman, child nor man, 
A dwelling place and yet no habitation." 

Because I had such need to be alone, I went there more 
than once, and had full liberty to cry aloud, with none to 
heed or hear. For when you strive with Heaven while yet 
on earth, not soul alone, but brain and heart and voice must 
bear a part. All — all of you shall feel the rocking wind — 
mayhap the earthquake and the breath of fire. Now after- 
ward, at home, within my room, this time of strife passed 
by, and verily I heard the still small voice, and knew that 
God was there. 

So being all at peace, illumination came. I have had 
many Psychic visions — none so bright as this that could but 
mean illimitable pain, yet filled me full of faith. Once 
more I saw myself upon a mountain-path, but now the way 
was widened, though it skirted still the precipice. I climbed 
within the shadow of a bluff, and I was free to climb — 
the hindering rocks were gone. Then, as it seemed, out 
of a cleft where he had stood in waiting, one stepped be- 
fore, as any mortal would, and took me by the hands and 
held me fast. Now he was clad in golden mail that shone 
most gloriously. A battle-prince he seemed — one who would 
lead in war, defend, and guide, and hinder onward rush. 
Oh, I must wait, must wait! And I must war for life! 



384 A Psychic Autobiography 

How could I fail of victory, so championed? I rose from 
kneeling, full of ecstasy, yet knew my prayer for haste had 
been denied. 

The vision grew upon me hour by hour. Another day at 
earliest dawn — compelled to rise for passionate supplication, 
this is what I asked: " Bring me another gift; something to 
bargain with, to sell for gain, or hold for profit. This, that 
I have, it seems, is far too precious to be hawked about. It 
can't be sold or given up to other management than mine, and 
I have neither aptitude nor power. Show me a plainer way." 

The answer came : " Before the day is done, it shall be 
shown." Faith took the promise up (oh, most incredible!) 
and while belief denied, no mist of doubt was in the golden 
atmosphere! Nothing took shape within my thoughts save 
this: No one would offer charity, no sudden rain of gold 
would fall. I should be shown another path in which to 
walk. It might be rough and long — but at the end would 
wait a golden gift worthy of all the toil. Now what this 
was to be I knew no more than you. I only said : " It shall 
be shown to-day! " Outlook was vacancy — all else was 
faith. 

Having my long-loved Mrs. Manley as a guest, and she 
about to leave, I took a holiday. From eight o'clock to three 
we saw as many Boston sights as possible. Then, while we 
rested in the Public Gardens, out of the wide unseen, there 
came a prompting word. "Do you believe our promise? 
Have you still the faith ? " My mind replied : " I have 
the faith. Before the sun has set a gift will come." 

While we were thinking it was time to go — silent and sad 
because we had to part, no doubt for many years, there 
floated up to conscious thought a little phrase out of an old 
philosophy well-conned in childhood : " Fluid seeks its level." 
That and nothing more. Then in a flash it came to me: 
" Why, there's a principle to be applied — a means of feed- 
ing oil to furnaces with perfect safety; also with even distri- 
bution all along the furnace breadth. This involves a new 
invention — something for defence of what I have already. 
Here is my gift — better than charity." I carried home an 
automatic valve for keeping fluid-levels and very soon de- 
vised a gauge, a feeding cylinder and, after one experiment, 



Crevasses and Canons 385 

an oil distributor — a sort of burning table capable of giving 
equal heat along the furnace width, by means of natural draft 
and well restrained supply. 

Ideal — theoretical of course, as all inventions are till put 
to proof — certain to cost hard work and anxious thought; 
no less a gift of price. I so accepted it. 

"When Ajax strives some rocks vast weight to throw," 
he dare not heed the shouting multitude. He plants firm 
feet, and takes deep breath with all his muscles tense, and 
so gets force to hurl. Deride me not for over-confidence in 
lifting weights. I stood between two worlds, and heard 
the higher voices rather than the lower. Beyond all inner 
doubt I had become aware of spirit-influence and spirit-aid. 
Whatever faith may be (I think its other name is knowl- 
edge) that I had for working capital, and that alone! And, 
strange to say, because of that I had the confidence of friends 
— sweeter than manna in the wilderness. I was not mocked. 

Chiefest of all I had the confidence of Mr. Henry Kendall 
as a true inventor, certain to succeed if given time enough. 
" Wait for awhile," he said, " till Frank and John decide 
what they can do. You'll work the better for a time of 
rest." And either he or Jane provided means for rest. In 
any case they thought and felt alike. 

While I was waiting in New York, to keep in touch with 
workmen pending further orders, whether from Watertown 
or other-where, there came a letter, no way heralded except 
by Psychic vision. (Nothing came unheralded that meant 
approach of work ! ) One whom I had known as advertizer 
on the Western Rural — a bright attractive fellow — wrote to 
this effect: 

" I learn that you have patented a vacuum-preserving 
process? Will it apply to meats ? If so, would like to form 
a partnership. Will pay for all experiments. Am Southern 
agent for the Wilson Canning Company. They much de- 
sire a better process. No doubt about financial backing. If 
you should favor this, please visit me at Baltimore." 

This letter I referred to Mr. Kendall. He advised : " Ac- 
cept, and let the other matters wait." And this I did. 
Why not consult the spirits? Well, Mr. Kendall was a 
spirit. So was I, and so are you. Please bear in mind 



386 A Psychic Autobiography 

that we are spirits all — able to give and take. Moreover if 
we wish to know the time of day, why ask a ouija board? 
You turn — and there's the clock! You walk abroad and 
ask your way of men; but should you stray among the fierce 
coyotes and find yourself alone, you call for higher help. Be 
sure that when a danger came, I called, and I was heard. 

Why be endangered? That's to show. But anyway I 
went to Baltimore. During a week of pleasant household 
visiting, I made my host aware on what a slender plank I 
walked, across how deep a chasm! That no way daunted 
him. Oh, certainly he heard the Psychic story! — I were 
nor honest else nor fair with him, who meant to spend a 
little money — " much " he said, " if necessary, to bring 
about results." But then he wanted much. His wants in- 
creased like Falstaffs men in buckram. Half and half, he 
wanted equal undissolvable partnership. Not patent own- 
ership — he stopped at that — but mastership of business, sole 
and absolute by contract — I to invent, and he to rule, so 
share and share alike. I let him state his wants : 

" All kinds of meats uncooked, in glass or tin " (since I 
had made my feeder, tin was quite available). Curious I 
had never thought of purifying meats by vacuum and cook- 
ing afterwards; and that was well left out. " Green corn 
and oysters." " They are pledged," I said, " throughout 
New England." — " Well, for every other territory. Eggs, 
in the shell or out." Oh, he went far afield! He looked 
" before and after, and pined for what was not." And last 
of all, and most of all, he wanted fruits. I stopped him 
there. " The fruits are mine. No one on earth, but I, 
shall have the care of them." 

"We might as well stop bargaining: I'll sign no docu- 
ment that doesn't give me fruits. And after all, where can 
you get the means to manage them? " 

" Perhaps through something else. I mean to have a way 
of burning crude petroleum in furnaces. That would be 
something I could sell outright." 

" That's the best of all. Grant me a partnership in that, 
and I'll give up the fruits." 

" You can't believe in that ! It isn't tested yet." 



Crevasses and Canons 387 

" Well, I believe in you at all events." 
And so my " Automatic Safety Burner " proved a sure 
protector before it earned a name. A phantom, fiery blos- 
som — out before its time! 

" Now," said my host; " I'll draw the articles." 
"Why not I?" In truth I thought about the Eighmie- 
Collins contract — a perfect document, accordant with the 
higher righteousness no less than common law. Would he 
submit to have a spirit lawyer? Would not Judge Evelyn 
adjudicate? It seemed I needed him; and yet he did not 
come. 

I asked: " Why not employ a lawyer? " 
" I'll pay no lawyer's fee. I can protect myself." 
" And me, as well ? " 

" It's all one thing. We share and share alike." 
" Will you insert a clause exacting justice to the factory- 
workers — women and children, equally with men ? " 
" With all my heart, and see it well enforced." 
To pinch the poor would not have been a fault of his. 
In truth, I knew no fact to prove him capable of fraudulent 
intent. And yet a fact must be disclosed. This man had 
lately been the willing tool of swindlers, managing for them 
a certain " family paper." This was published as an adver- 
tizing vehicle for carrying on nefarious schemes and getting 
rich out of the common people. At last they dropped off, 
gorged ! Moreover he had called on me to be its editor, 
because my name was known and meant respectability. 
That is what I missed because of spirit-guidance ! 

Yet here I was, by that same spirit-guidance about to 
touch a grimy palm, and so ally myself with one who might 
have stood behind the prison bars among his master-villains — 
had they been fairly caught. He had their gold about him 
yet. What! Tainted gold? Well, that is how you view 
it. I think that gold is good, however stamped; — well 
worthy to be scoured for sacred use! As for this man — ■ 
obsessed and led astray — could any spirit guide him back to 
walk with honorable folk — enlist him as a raw recruit with 
honest soldiery? It seems that even Judge Evelyn, who 
wrote the righteous Crusade Documents and prophesied that 
I should have inventions, did not disdain to use, for godly 



388 A Psychic Autobiography 

purposes, ungodly gains. Whose is the image? Whose the 
superscription? — Lucifer's or God's? 

My would-be partner spent two days and half a night 
preparing articles to bind me " fast in fate." That being 
done it proved, I woke at early dawn and found myself con- 
fronted with a Psychic vision. " Behold the lamb," one said, 
"prepared for sacrifice! " I saw the lamb. He stood be- 
fore me, white and beautiful, and over him was flung a net 
ot hempen rope. Lengthwise, across, tied fast at every in- 
tersection, never to be unwoven, clung the net, — and yet his 
feet were free. There was no master-knot to make the 
whole secure. And presently he walked away, the net 
slipped off, he disappeared, and not a priest of Baal could 
search him out. 

Then said Judge Evelyn (mark me, I did not dream the 
words nor fancy them) : " Sign what is brought to you with- 
out a protest." 

So when my host that morning brought a lengthy docu- 
ment and read it out — not handing it to me for careful 
study — I took the pen and signed. " But wait," I said, 
" before you also sign ; consider this ; I am, as I have told 
you, guarded well. God gave me my inventions; none can 
plunder me of them. Severe as these agreements are for 
me, but keep them loyally and both of us will profit. Fail 
in honor, you will lose and I shall gain. Should that be so, 
do you consent to lose ? " 

" I do." And so he signed and so I waited orders: 
" Bring your appliances to Baltimore, and prove that you 
can put up oysters first, uncooked and well preserved." So 
I obeyed and spent two months about the work, nor failed 
to do it well. Meantime I visited the monstrous canneries 
that made a few (and these were men) inordinately rich, 
and kept nine thousand women-workers miserably poor; — 
alas! disreputable also, many people said, through lack of 
decent wage. 

I promised God that I would wait His time, endure all 
labor, sacrifice all other hopes at need — oh, not to rescue 
fallen women only, but to prevent the fall. No doubt I 
swung too far away — " not by command, but by permission." 
I wanted none but women, first and last, to build all fac- 



Crevasses and Canons 389 

tories, to manage them with righteousness, to send out perfect 
foods, and reap the golden profits. A great monopoly? 
Well, not a " Safety Cage" by any means! How ran the 
Crusade Documents ? Men were to be " the outward wall 
and bulwark of defense," women, " the ministering rulers of 
the mind and heart;" and both together, "asking and re- 
ceiving counsel," were to work with " mutual interchange, 
not held in light esteem." 

You see, these days I had to walk by lantern lights — just 
bright enough to serve for showing paths that ran along 
crevasses. Beware of avalanches when the sun is hot! 
Be slow and safe, even though you climb by night. So 
please you figure out my tropes as best you may. 

My partner wanted avalanches — fortunes falling with a 
mighty rush no matter who went down. " And now," he 
said, " we'll test your scheme for burning oil. That may 
be something we can sell at once, — not wait for royalties." 

It followed readily that, spite of recent Brooklyn laws 
forbidding oil as fuel, Hibbler and Dorrflinger contrived to 
let me use their designated furnace for a week — if I could 
keep it hot; and that without a possibility of profit to them- 
selves. Let's make a note of it! And so when I had 
shaped my " fluid-level " apparatus hastily (a little feeding 
cylinder without, within a heavy perforated iron plate sunk 
in a shallow pan — oil entering underneath), I got the 
" Automatic Safety Burner " safe in place, one Sabbath day, 
and lighted up my fire. Five hundred men stood round 
agape, intent on learning how; and happily, when I arrived 
next day at seven o'clock, I found the furnace raging hot 
and all its fourteen glory holes in service; so throughout the 
week. 

My partner sent his delegate, who walked about de- 
lightedly, and sent off telegrams: " Entire success! " " Still 
running splendidly and workmen satisfied ! " 

That's not to say that I was satisfied. Not even Tubal- 
Cain, I dare suppose, had kept his fires aglow without a 
smoke, nor Abraham at his altar — serving God with sacri- 
fice! And as for mine — not being fitted out with any sort 
of blast — among the white-winged flames you saw the darker 
plumes that " didn't ought to be." But then the workmen 



390 A Psychic Autobiography 

claimed they wanted smoke — " it gave an oiliness and made 
the tools slip easier on the glass." 

But all the same I understood that here was nothing to 
be bargained off as yet. My father always set his weights 
to make the best of cloth before the shuttles flew. If but 
my partner willed, I meant to have, before the selling time, 
a fire without a visible fume, and atomizing plates left clean 
as any lady's hand. 

He telegraphed in haste : " Have brought preserving ap- 
paratus to Chicago. Bring your safety burner." 

It seems a reasonable thing to say that any spirit, turning 
back to earth for worthy purposes, should seek out honest 
souls to further them; still, for comparison, a mountain 
stream must take the nearest channel. But then it has a 
blessed way of washing pebbles clean, and giving birds to 
drink, and feeding roots, and beautifying flowers. Be sure 
if spirits choose dishonest folk to help their plans, they know 
of some resultant good not otherwise to be. 

Alas! My hope of rivaling Tubal-Cain! When I had 
fitted up a boiler — not without a blast — and run the print- 
ing presses very well a week or two — but not without a 
smoke, my enterprising partner said : " It's time to adver- 
tise. They're wanting Burners everywhere. We'll manu- 
facture them for sale at fifty dollars each — they'll cost no 
more than twenty. Thousands will send for them." 

Something like this he talked, or made me understand ; 
and much like this had been those other schemes of which I 
learned, that, years before, had brought in filthy script by 
sackfuls — used to found a Bank, to carry on a factory for 
canning beef, and, by an outside flicker it appeared, set fire 
to surfaces of crude petroleum tucked in among the bricks 
for furnace work. However, this one scheme was contra- 
vened by me, and laid aside. 

Another took its place. I had my laboratory fitted up 
for tests on meat — uncooked. My partner interposed : " No 
use in canning meats uncooked ; people don't want them so. 
The men I represent must have them cooked." 

" Must have from us just what they've got already?— 
Besides, cooked meats are not included in the contract." 



Crevasses and Canons 391 

" What is the difference ? They want another cooking 
process. They'll pay enormously." 

" But why? " 

" Because their patent isn't good for much. They had to 
compromise with Libby. He prosecuted them for putting 
up cooked meats, and they've agreed to help him prosecute 
infringers everywhere." 

" Including me, perhaps? " 

" But yours will be another process. Use your vacuum 
of course — that's covered by a patent; but give us what we 
want." 

" Subject to prosecution? Our contract says that I'm to 
pay for all defense of patents. If none must cook but 
Libby and one other firm, how then shall I escape? My 
share would disappear — be swallowed up in law. I and my 
process both would be disgraced." 

I took him in to see Judge Joshua Knickerbocker, to whom 
he made complaint : " You see, she isn't sharp. She doesn't 
understand that men in business must be sharp or fail." 
And yet he spoke with trepidation, — a generous man gone 
wrong, in need of pity! 

" Let's see if we can find a better way " — so said the 
kindly judge. He turned to me: " Canned meats are very 
poor. Why not invent a better cooking process? " 

Strange I had never thought of that! " A better cooking 
process;" and to be patented and made defensible? "I 
will ! " and so we compromised. 

Now this was done, and very speedily. My friend was 
back among his old associates, and I suppose they sharpened 
him the more — who sharpened him at first. But anyway, he 
caught the lines: "Your process? Where's your valid 
patent? Mine or anybody's! " 

" Leave him with me," Judge Knickerbocker said : " Go 
home and rest." 

So back I went to mother's little farm some eighty miles 
away (my oldest sister's, since my mother passed), and kept 
my " flower of Patience " well in bloom, through all the 
summer months. Then my advisor wrote : " Your partner 
grows ashamed. He gives the contract back and promises 



392 A Psychic Autobiography 

to make no further trouble." And even so the knotted ropes 
fell off; the lamb prepared for sacrifice escaped. 

Don't be severe. He let me go. Let it be said that I 
have striven since then with one incalculably worse (may 
God assoilzie him!). But did / strive? — or did some angel, 
clad in golden mail, meet me and press me back and stand 
on guard, that none should murder me. That way it 
seemed. 

What had my whilom partner lost? Five hundred dol- 
lars possibly. What had he gained? A sense of shame 
worth infinitely more. He, too, was bound with cords, and 
when the net slipped off, roamed into honest paths and 
showed the blush of shame. 

What had / lost? Nothing at all; not even faith in hu- 
man nature, — much less faith in spirit-guardianship. What 
had I gained? A wider range of thought — a firmer grasp, 
a clearer sense of world-necessities; and, if you like, a novel 
way of burning oil in furnaces — not very well nor altogether 
ill, but absolutely safe, and yet to be an art. What else? 
Far more than I could realize as yet; — what men have 
vainly sought. A perfect mode of canning vacuum-treated 
food, cooked none too much, and absolutely pure. 

One thing I had not gained, — a better apparatus — much 
to be desired for factory work. The one I used was like a 
safe, not usable unless you knew the combination. Therein 
was my defense: Easy to say: "My process! Anybody's 
process ! " Impossible to make the boast hold good ! And 
well for me that God withheld his crowning gift through 
many years ! He gives — but not too soon ! 

A farce Fve read assumes a vacuum-space in every brain. 
Conscious of one in mine, I went a-wandering in Chicago 
streets, and knew not what to do, or where to go in search 
of further help ; till came my mother's word — or so it seemed : 
11 Go to Diana Hoivland!" Oh, spirit-guardians! How- 
ever great you are in angelhood, stand back at need, and let 
our spirit-mothers guide — who better know the way! 

What does Robert Browning say? — Something like this: 
"You're on the sea; you're caught in storm; the masts have 
snapped, life boats are torn away, the crew washed over- 
board, you, only, left on deck. Then floats along some ' ex- 



Crevasses and Canons 393 

quisite she-creature.' Never fear; leap, clutch, hold fast, 
and lo, she swims away, to leave you on the very rock you 
saw from far, and had no power to reach! " 

Well then, Diana Howland (mother's friend, and mine 
because of her), took me from off my wreck and left me on 
the rock. That is to say she gave me maintenance, sent out 
my sample meats for exhibition, helped me to put up more, 
and when a company was organized for work, wrote down 
her name the first. (See now! That partner left my ap- 
paratus all in place ready for instant use! I much approved 
of him.) 

True, this was breaking ground for tillage after many 
days should pass, but then it broke the ground. And more; 
it brought me those, who, by perpetual favor, made my work 
secure, which but for them had gone the way of wrack. 

Now when the time arrived for ceding rights, after three 
months' preparatory drill, our company needed more experi- 
enced men ; and two of us, well fortified with samples, went 
in search of them. We found " The noblest Roman of 
them all" (meaning the princely packers!). He, seeing 
that I had the better process, offered capital and promised 
leadership — that being what we needed most of all. 

Just then from out the blue there came a thunderbolt, or 
let us say, under the feet of all who dealt in meats there 
ran an earth-quake tremor. Our convert, Mr. Culbertson 
(of Culbertson & Blair), had closed his packing house, fore- 
seeing this, and called a two year's halt. But most the can- 
ners suffered. People averred their goods were undesirable; 
dealers abroad had sent them back in shiploads, marked " un- 
salable." There seemed no possibility of building factories 
to launch our better meats, till more propitious times. " But 
take your choice," said Mr. Culbertson; "go on alone or 
wait three years for me. I will not fail you then." No — 
of himself he would not fail, but Death put out a hand and 
palsied him before the time expired. There was no choice; 
— and oh, the waiting years ! What should I do with them ? 

I hid away in woods as wounded creatures do. I spent 
myself in futile supplications, winning no response, — and 
that was hard! No word of comfort came; for God is 
often silent when we speak, till we have uttered all. And 



394 A Psychic Autobiography 

still I mourned: " Six years have passed since I was made 
to see a home for hapless women ; five years since I took up 
the cross in hope of saving them ; but none are saved through 
me. When Lord? and when? and when?" It seemed that 
I must die without my work ; and yet no answer came. Not 
even a mystic symbol flashed before my brain; not even a 
Bible text, as oftentimes before, was pointed out by chapter, 
verse and book, assuring me that spirits understood. Had 
God and they forsaken me? — I had not lost my faith! — 
Under the trees I spoke my final word : " Give me some 
other work to save my soul alive. I'll ask no more for this, 
but trust and wait." 

I rose up trembling, went my way and ere I reached my 
sister's gate, said out of trouble's depth (and knew not why 
I said) : " Her path breaks off." 

But what had come to me? I reached my room, took up 
my pencil, wrote and wrote and could not stop! My soul 
caught up that one whom Christ forgave, and held her fast 
and would not let her go till all was said. So came my 
" Heart of Sorrows " ( Scribner's Magazine I think for 
1878)! Had I not asked a spirit once if I must sacrifice 
the poet ? Had he not answered me : — " Not for a thousand 
worlds! " 

But had I been a poet ? Much I had doubted it ; but now 
my heart rejoiced. Not to my hurt had been the long un- 
singing years, and there were nine of them — soul-searching 
years, enriching years ! I sang and I was glad ! 



XXXI 



VALLEYS AND PITFALLS 




ND so I hid in canons two full years to 
sing my songs, and no one troubled me. 
Not even spirits interposed between my 
verse and me, with any work of theirs, 
which truly I was most incompetent to do 
without their leadership. Still, now and 
then I was aware of them. They came 
and dropped a word or two, so giving me a sense of being 
watched with friendly s3nm.pat.hy. 

Once, I remember, halting on a line needing a word of 
weight, some spirit said : " similitudes " — which I had never 
used nor chanced to think about. And once when I had 
set myself to use archaic words and knew of none that signi- 
fied a place for beasts unclean, one brought me " stigh," 
which gave the sense and forged the rhyme as well. Most 
like he flung a baited hook in some old castle-moat, six hun- 
dred years gone by, to catch that one particular thing alive, 
whose froggy croak should make the verse come right. Oh, 
afterward I fished it out myself! but verily, just then, it 
would have been as far beyond my mental reach as Alde- 
baran, brightest of the Hyades — or any star you please. 

One little word — no more. But mark! Ten thousand 
words make up the " Crusade Documents." They came in 
rank and file, each in his rightful place, — all keeping well 
together — none of them a-limp. They came, a swift, in- 
vading host — took soul and sense by storm, and so encamped. 
Who summoned them from out the " vasty deep ? " Not 
I, in very truth. At best I deal in no prodigious arts. Ten 
thousand words in forty hours! I've spent as long a time 
in choosing eight that pleased me thoroughly. But these I 
did not choose. They stand out plainly on the page to be 
accounted for. 

"Subconsciousness?" "Unconscious Cerebration?" 



395 



396 A Psychic Autobiography 

"Hypnotism?" "Self-hypnotism?" Oh, I know the 
lingo! Always remember I am not a sleeping medium. 
These words came pulsing through my brain with all my 
faculties alert, — not any sense was dulled of all the five. 

"Telepathy?" Yes, the celestial kind. The other sort 
exists no doubt. " Illuminative? " Well, you see a light — 
something to guess about. Is it a glow-worm possibly? A 
star-backed beetle wandering at will? And if it be a 
thought transferred, what then? Prove me a hundred 
words that came that way, from conscious human mind to 
human mind ! Meantime, one seems to say : " I am a dis- 
embodied spirit. Once I lived on earth. I turn again, 
and, out of all good will, I bring you something that you 
seem to need for social governance." And, speaking so, 
transmits to you, through me, if so you please, ten thousand 
words, not one of which comes lagging in all out of place. 
Moreover, not to practise mysteries, he tells you first and 
last : " My name on earth was Evelyn — I was a judge in 
Liverpool." Why should you say "He lies! He cheats! 
He tricks! He works by hypnotism; he sends his thoughts 
from far, and makes this woman write them out for him? " 
— he being yet on earth. 

And, by the way, will any living man declare to you : " I 
thought these very thoughts and used these very substantives 
in 1872; and here's a manuscript to show for it? " And if 
indeed it happened so, before the year was out it all ap- 
peared in print — my host the publisher! Where then was 
this mysterious personage who should have claimed the 
whole? 

Never suppose that during these two rhythmic years, I 
willingly forewent my mission-work. That was an under- 
wave, a counter current — drift of sunken thoughts, which- 
ever way I rowed. I never set a sail to catch the lightest 
wind, unmindful of the deeps wherein my soul had plunged, 
and yet must plunge again. 

One day it came about that I was writing " Merlin's " 
final words, — Merlin who knew (so I imagined him) 

All spells that ever mortal wrought 
To daunt the demon train, 



Valleys and Pitfalls 397 

but, at the last — unclothed of sorceries — like all mankind 
must quaff 

For blessing or for bane 
The drink that makes the white gods laugh, 
The black gods howl with pain. 

Merlin, who challenged Death to mortal strife, and had no 
fear of him! 

Now never youth so burned 

To stride his warling steed, 
To slay the dragon-breed, 
As I, the yet unthrown, have yearned 

To meet thee fair in fight; 
And till thy riddles I have learned, 
To wrestle, mind and might! — 
Or thou or I must bleed: 
So sore is this my need! 

While so I wrote " my wierd and wonderful chant " (so 
Whittier named the verse), a " stolen tyde " rolled over me; 
and if there be a way to weep abundantly in Paradise, that 
way of tears was mine. Had I not asked for work with 
sacrifice? Now, first I realized what waits for him who 
chooses God's redemptive work to be forever his. 

Suns veins for him shall bleed ; 

Bees' honey him will feed; 
Last, One — full strong to soar and sink, 

Heaven-veiled in purples vast and dim — 
Will break his bread, will share his drink, 
Will rise and sweetly strive with him; 
Heart-pierced will strike him down, 

Will whisper : " Thou shalt know, 

Fair son, my weal and woe; 
Shalt follow where the black gods frown 

Self-soaked in bitter brine, 
With me there plunge and deeply drown, 

Spill out thy blood as wine; 

Uplift them, friend or foe, — 

So kiss them, white as snow ! " 



398 A Psychic Autobiography 

How could I choose but weep ? For all this while, it had 
not yet been given me to point to any soul and say : " This 
one escaped from hell because of me." 

" In England no one lives by verse that lives," so Mrs. 
Browning writes; and even in rich America to-day, who 
wholly lives by that? Did Lanier — even who sang: " Into 
the woods my Master came," — the most heart-breaking, 
beautiful, unmortal lyric of the Christ that ever moved the 
lips of mortal man? 

Did Whittier have a bank account before his sixtieth 
year ? 

Still, now and then, one finds a favoring editor as I in 
Dr. J. G. Holland — heart of gold, and counted friend as 
well. So having funds and, further still, a book to show 
for bargaining, I issued forth and dared the world again. 
This time I saw no way of climbing mountain-paths (and 
crossing dread crevasses possibly) ! I took the lower road. 
That means that nothing seemed within my reach except to 
burn petroleum. This others did in other ways than mine; 
but that was not for me to stumble over. A " petroleuse " 
among the " petroleurs " — why not? 

V To tell the truth I had a pledge to keep. There was a 
Psychic contract made in 1875 between my spirit-guardian 
and myself; — not written out but sanctioned, ratified and 
held by both to be inviolable! Suppose we dare to say a 
partnership. Mind you, I had not lighted yet the torch 
that fired my furnace of the glory-holes. That one of us 
who had the gift of prophecy as I had verified, thought best 
to futurize. And first he said : " The ground that you are 
standing on is very rich." I saw the gold beneath, but could 
not see a way of getting it. No less he added this: " When 
you achieve an excellent way of heating furnaces, that will 
be yours to sell. I ask for half the price. Reclaim for me 
' The Crusade Documents ' and organize a host for good- 
will purposes. The other half be yours, to keep or give 
away at will. Do you consent?" 

And then and there we entered into partnership — not yet 
dissolved. You know I cannot tell a part unless I tell the 
whole, if that be Psychic history; or otherwise you see but 
half the shield, and miss the true device. 



Valleys and Pitfalls 399 

I took the lower road. No one compelled and no one 
lured me on; but I was not alone. At every turn I felt a 
guiding touch, and I suppose my silent partner knew my 
whereabouts and all I planned to do. It came to me that 
I must write to Dr. Barr, of Titusville, where Drake first 
drilled for oil. He proffered hospitality at once, and spoke 
of introductions. That sufficed for promise. True, I was 
very sick at Margaret's. She grieved : " I see no hope but 
you must die ; and yet you talk of leaving me ; you even talk 
of work. I beg you not to go." I held her in my heart of 
hearts and yet I would not yield. " Margaret," I said, " I 
do believe that God has called. As for my health; He 
knows how frail I am. He has His remedies. I trust in 
Him." 

Now, out of all this world, one man in Titusville — an ex- 
cellent " magnetic healer," if you please — had begged a tank, 
borrowed a boiler, guessed a way of using compressed air, 
and started up a Cure, — not knowing patents were pro- 
hibitive. And lo, you, on the second day I breathed again 
my double atmosphere, and laughed at threat of Death! 
This Cure was just about to fail disastrously. Some wanton 
enemy averred that whosoever took the novel baths was 
pretty sure to die — as witness many done to death in Buffalo! 
Moreover, Dr. Stone, of Rochester, who held the patent- 
right, had heard and written word that he was coming on 
to close the little place at once, and sue for damages. 

Ah, well, the pen is mightier than the sword! M3'self a 
Buffalo patient — who could nail the lies as well as I ! and so 
I took the daily paper quite by storm, till sick folks hurried 
in. When Dr. Stone came on he made an advertising 
pamphlet of my articles for permanent use, allowed the 
Cure, and formed a partnership. The work went on. 

And all within a month myself was saved — a dying baby 
brought to life, a crazed asthmatic kept from suicide, con- 
verted patients boasting better health, and furthermore (ap- 
preciate the climax), under the little boiler, safely bricked 
in place, an "Automatic Safety Burner " sent the gauge up 
to the highest point permissible, and no one saw a smoke! 
Safe? Part of the time I burned benzine to prove it so! 
And Economical ? — Saved fuel by a third ! Moreover Colo- 



400 A Psychic Autobiography 

nel Roberts — great authority! — declared that he had melted 
platinum with no more fervent fire. 

That may have been; but take away your boiler (water 
lined) construct instead an arch of brick and melt — first 
thing of all — your burner plates! In that case what to do 
but keep your principle and change your apparatus, — get the 
full broad, upward-flying blaze by other means and fuse 
your metals happily? All that might happen after many 
years. Meantime I kept the plates. They warped in time 
— nothing to worry over, easy to exchange. But no " aerial 
bridges " could span the gap between a twelve-horse boiler 
and a smelting furnace! Piers were yet to build, ere any 
soul could cross. 

What has all this to do with Psychic mysteries. I cry 
you mercy! Everything to me — who deal in them. To 
burn crude oil the better way, the way beyond all other ways, 
because a master-thought, because a master-mind was mov- 
ing me (always with my consent), to pass beyond my sphere. 
Can you suppose I had proclivity to such pursuits? To 
crawl through furnace doors, devise my baffles, set my 
bricks and smear myself with clay, emerge and like a goblin 
of the underworld, stand close and feed the flames — rather 
than gather flowers? (The hills were sweet with them.) 

At least, I loved my fire. By means of that I hoped to 
forge the swords my Captain-general needed for the host — 
Crusaders, all of them, equipped for holy war! Had not 
Judge Evefyn asked for half the price? Come! Let us 
toil and moil; or otherwise how can there be a price? And, 
by the way, if you are prone to skip the while you read, you'll 
often lose the sense and think it isn't there. Please don't! 

Even before I got my smokeless fire, a man who hailed 
from Philadelphia, proposed a partnership. Not to decry 
the business enterprise of men within the oil-producing belts, 
before all other lures they heed the lure of oil. A burner 
meant to them something to use in drilling wells and pump- 
ing them — no more. This man had larger thoughts — too 
large it proved; but I accepted him for what he seemed — 
a generous gentleman whom one could trust. That is a 
way of mine. 

I sat me down to study out agreements by myself, if pos- 



Valleys and Pitfalls 401 

sible. My spirit-partner had not interfered till now; but, 
in a breathing space, he came and just as he had written 
" Crusade Documents " and Collins-Eighmie contracts, so 
he held me thrall and wrote again, plain word by word, and 
not a phrase amiss. 

A friend, not knowing all, adjured me: "Do not trust 
yourself. You need an able lawyer. Let me see to that." 
He took the document away to be revised or wholly changed 
perhaps; but came back wondering: " It can't be altered in 
the least. The lawyer says it's ' boss.' " To this my new 
associate agreed, and so we signed, and even so I set myself 
to be obedient, — his part to furnish funds and carry on ex- 
ploiting, mine to do the furnace work and bide results. 

And first he sent me off to Buffalo to study furnace-work ; 
then wrote that I must go to Jamestown for the holidays 
and try a hundred horse-power boiler — just to see! And 
there I found my burners — much enlarged to furnish 
breadth, was told that I could have six days for installation, 
and experiment during their idle time. In fact they started 
up the Mills on my account — a mighty Corliss engine run- 
ning many looms a day for perfect test. " Plenty of steam," 
" the heat intense " — " the Burner safe in all respects." So 
ran the testimonials — a lot of them. 

But not for permanent use : Partly because so great a 
furnace needed study; but chiefly, as it seemed, because the 
transportation rates on oil were made prohibitive save to 
the Standard Company (which didn't care for anybody's 
needs except its own, as all the world has learned). 

Still, here was evidence of weight. Moreover, Mr. Hall, 
the manager — son of the owner — seemed inspired with sin- 
gular faith. He said that he had studied under Bunsen 
when in Heidelberg, and knew I had the quality of fire that 
might apply to metallurgical work. He charged me not to 
be content with limited success, however hard the task. 

So much for that! But now my partner wrote that I 
must stay and hunt up capital, and that was rather queer. 
I halted long enough to have a fit of sickness due to over- 
work, then sent him on a helper. Back he came: "Your 
partner says that running furnaces is not a work for women 
anyway. So you can stay away; we'll manage it ourselves." 



402 A Psychic Autobiography 

That message took me back to Titusville. Men stopped 
me in the streets : " What does this mean ? Have you sold 
out? Your partner says he owns the Burner — drops your 
name and substitutes his own." 

Well, so it was. And there was nothing left to do but 
take mine own again. " A perfect contract," so ?;he lawyer 
said : " It leaves you wholly free." — And so my " courteous 
gentleman " slipped out — and well for me! 

We had a Burners' tournament in March, at Eaton's 
Boiler Works (Oil City, near at hand), — the best and 
worst, in rivalry with mine; and since comparative evapora- 
tions by the hour, were sixty gallons only on their part to 
ninety on my own, a price was offered me; — not for the use 
alone but for the patent. Just about enough, I estimate, to 
send two good Crusaders off to Palestine. But what about 
the Host? Impossible to disregard my spirit-partner's 
rights; and I refused to sell. 

So while Jarecki manufactured apparatus, I made myself 
a very small promoter, — putting burners in among the Brad- 
ford hills, and showing drillers how to manage them. So 
for a year perhaps; till certain men of worth proposed to 
organize a Company, getting Jarecki's leave as well as mine. 
"Wait patiently," they said; "We'll be a little slow, but 
take the time for rest." 

"For rest?" God would not have it so. Look you! 
Eight thousand people lived in Bradford ; thousands more 
who centered there, were drilling thereabouts; churches 
a-plenty; money in abundance; temperance lectures carried 
on four months all nights, at heavy cost; six thousand dol- 
lars at the close of them contributed for " Law and Order ; " 
eloquent McCabe, who wanted churches built for mining 
men and gambling pioneers a long way off, took in eight 
thousand dollars with a single talk; two thousand followed 
for a Boot-black's Home (for there were twenty boot-blacks 
needing guardianship) and some proposed to raise twelve 
thousand more for a gymnasium. " Young men must be 
amused to keep them safe," they said. 

Meantime eight hundred women walked the streets, and 
herded on the " Island." One had dared to ask for help ; 



Valleys and Pitfalls 403 

and certain lovely women — borrowing sixty dollars — had 
sent her to a Magdalen asylum. Only one ! 

They drew me in to help them earn it back by writing up 
the case; — someone sent in a dollar! Help for all — except 
for fallen women! Still we earned the sum another way. 
Moreover with a song sent out for sale on " Fireman's Day " 
I earned a further sum. We organized for work, and took 
that money for a nucleus, if any other came. Before a day 
had passed I learned of one who wanted to escape; and so 
began my work! 

About that time there was a general raid of evil haunts. 
Men walked away unchallenged; — women were marched to 
Court and fined. That made the city rich. It may have 
made the mayor popular; but one — not having funds to pay 
her fine, committed suicide. 

Some four of us — one was a clergyman — offered to those 
who found the means for burial (poor sinners all of them!), 
a Christian funeral, — singing and talk and prayer. That 
pleased them well, and one of special note drew near to me 
and pleaded : " Come and visit us. We're bad ; but not so 
bad as people think." 

Now one who had a reputable home and thought herself 
a Christian said to me: " I'll help not one of them! They're 
where they chose to be, and let them stay." Ah, they — were 
" not so bad ! " For if I led one out the others cheered her 
on : " You're doing right. You're very fortunate." Some- 
times they wept ; and always when they saw me, asked : " Is 
Jennie doing well? " " Is Effie happy? " " Where is Fan- 
nie, now? " Someway they loved each other — there was no 
treachery among them! — "Not so bad!" 

God gave me twelve that year, and none of them went 
back. Five I took to Quaker Magdalen Asylums, where 
they were qualified to live; two went to hospitals, came out 
and earned their bread by honest toil; two were comfortably 
married ; two went home rejoicing — welcomed happily ; and 
one — the worst of all, grown murderous with drugs and alco- 
hol, was taken by her father and myself (by her desire), to 
Kirkbride's Home for the Insane. " A hopeless case," he 
said. " We only take her in because of you " — and In a 
year doctors were training her to be a nurse! Not savable? 



404 A Psychic Autobiography 

I think of all the sinners Christ forgave, the one most sweetly 
saved was Magdalen. 

For these I had to beg — and that was hard. I could have 
saved two more with what the flowers had cost that made 
one church smell sweet on Sabbath days — as verily it ought, 
save at the cost of souls. 

" Evil is wrought by want of thought 
As well as by want of heart." 

And others would have come, could I have made a place 
for them. But these, at least, were mine, to have and hold 
throughout eternity! 

But something more was done: I found that honest farm- 
ers' daughters drifting in to search for work, were often 
caught away! and so I moved to have a Working Woman's 
Home. And now I did not beg — the money came right 
easily. I merely entered offices, laid my subscription papers 
on the desk, conversed (since men preferred to talk) on — 
City government perhaps or nitro-glycerine, or, if they urged 
me, different ways of burning oil. (Most every one had 
his particular way; and that explains in part, why mine was 
dragging so.) But by and bye, a hand would slip along, 
take up the pen, write down an honorable name: one hun- 
dred, fifty, twenty-five, — or, very seldom, ten. 

And so some fifty women organized themselves for work. 
We got ourselves a charter and a house. I had to be the 
matron half-a-year; that was delight. Meantime the leaven 
spread. But as for me, I took the road again. A lady 
whom I never saw before, nor since, came with a gift : " You 
take no price for what you do, take this." With that and 
with my " Abigail Becker " for the " Century," I started 
east. For, after all the long delay where was my Company ? 

I walked in Boston — mortally alone — after one night of 
rest. Why seek a friend? — Why let the Kendalls know? 
I was aware of one who surely knew the way and I suppose 
he stopped me suddenly. He said — some spirit said : " Go 
up these stairs ! " and I obeyed. 

A gentleman who sat beside his desk, observed me through 
an open door, came out and asked me kindly: " Can I be of 



Valleys and Pitfalls 405 

use ? " — " Perhaps you can. I have a way of burning crude 
petroleum, and want it tried for iron work." 

He wrote a name : " Go to my brother-in-law ; he'll tell 
you what to do ; " and that one said : " Go straight to Mr. 
Coffin." 

I found a gentleman of seventy or more, I think a former 
iron-monger, long retired. He heard my story, looked me 
through and laughed : " You're very like those abolition 
women — friends of mine — who faced the Boston mob when 
Harriet Martineau was here. No need to show your testi- 
monials; I believe in you. I'd rather help than not; but 
understand I want no profit for myself. Just do your 
best; I'll ask for nothing more! " 

He called an office boy: " Gogin went up the stairs awhile 
ago; tell him I wish to see him." 

" Haven't you an idle furnace, Mr. Gogin? This lady 
has a way of burning oil. I want to see it tried. I'll bear 
the whole expense." 

" Very well ; we have an antiquated furnace, seldom fired, 
we'll let her use four weeks. No doubt our men will let 
her heat their iron — if she can. We can't attend to it. 
We're pledged to use the generating process." 

Inwardly I laughed; and yet was sorry men could be so 
gulled. It cost them dear; but that is how we learn. At 
worst, they learned how not to burn petroleum, and that 
was much. 

And so, all insignificance, I wound my way among the 
" generators," " super-heaters," oil-pumps, pipes and things, 
to take my place well out of sight, with privilege to do ex- 
actly as I pleased. Now this was at the Norway Rolling 
Mills. I had to bring wrought iron up to welding heat, 
and this I did, not stinting oil nor moderating blasts; and 
so in some few hours my burner plates began to melt. 
There was no remedy except to simulate a boiler surface, 
water-lined, just over them; no new device it seemed, and 
yet my own. That answered very well. I doubt if such 
a tempered heat had melted platinum. The heated iron 
welded perfectly. 

Three things remained to do (not that I thought of doing 
them) : First, throw away the burner-plates; then throw 



406 A Psychic Autobiography 

away the water arch ; and then, still with my automatic feed 
(improved), contrive a better way of getting in the oil — 
with just the same effect of equal distribution. So get your 
furnace roofed aright and — melt your platinum! But that 
was but a dream as yet. 

Well, anyway, a group of expert gentlemen — superintend- 
ents, furnace-builders and the like, came visiting, at Mr. 
Coffin's call, and they agreed that with a curving roof, a 
lower " velvetry " and smaller throat, I'd use a deal less 
oil and do a third more work. It followed that the Bay 
State Company asked for a conference, and, very fairly, un- 
d^took to carry on all further tests, maintaining me as well. 
And this, until three several superintendents — two from 
other mills, should say the trial had been fair and full. 
For this the Company was granted right and use " in any of 
its mills ; " leaving all other rights to me. A very liberal 
contract, such as Judge Evelyn himself might well approve. 

Robert H. Morrison, the Company's man of men through 
forty years, instructed me in furnace craft — greatly to my 
advantage afterward. But just as he and I set out to build 
— my part the burning chamber — his the shell — he sank and 
passed away. That stopped all work for many weeks. 
Then, unexpectedly, disasters came, so that the company 
failed. 

Now I have told these happenings because they undeni- 
ably revert to Psychic facts. You will remember those; — ■ 
the urgent prayer at dawn of day, the call for " something 
more," the answer, promising a gift before the day should 
end, the gift made evident in Boston Public Gardens; guid- 
ance here and there; till finally a spirit-voice directed me: 
That way I found the only man in Boston-town, no doubt, 
who would not fail to help. And I suppose that spirits 
knew of him long time before,' nor doubt but he has met 
Judge Evelyn, and been repaid. 

" But then," you ask, " why wait so long in Bradford ? " 
I'll answer that among my happy twelve in Paradise. 

And, after all, there is a Psychic part to every story, — 
yours no less than mine. Suppose you want a picture true 
to life; — well there's your negative! And dark is light and 



Valleys and Pitfalls 407 

light is very dark. But bring your skilled photographer and 
all is clear. Why curtain off the sun? 

Six years adrift: Once more you wonder why. God's 
ways are otherwise than ours. 

" Deep in unfathomable mines, 
Of never failing skill 
He treasures up His bright designs 
And works His sovereign will." 

And what are we that we should make demands? — " Has- 
ten our times and seasons ! Give us all we need with little cost 
to us ! " He will not have it so. Slow step by step we cross 
the deserts, creep through mountain fastnesses, climb rugged 
crags, and stand at gaze to see the great sun lifting up his 
head. He keeps God's time, not ours! 

Six years and little done — or much ! " Gather the waters 
of the lower pool," Isaiah saith. We'll gauge them after- 
ward. 

Something was done. I drifted west to Cleveland, where 
my brother William lived, for I was ill, and much in need 
of rest. Chancing to see an Iron Trade Review, I found 
my furnace work had been reported handsomely. Calling 
to render thanks, I found a gate of entrance open wide, and 
so I wrote (for pay) some general articles on burning oil — 
which had a circulation; — one was copied as authority in 
England. To tell the truth the matter was so little under- 
stood, 'most any word would be " authority " — and why 
not mine? 

It followed that I puddled iron for a day, with very good 
results. This would have brought a partnership, only the 
mills were burned, and business crippled. It brought me 
calls from California, but I was much afraid of heavy oil — 
the only kind they had — and this I let them know; but still 
they urged. My burning plates were atomizers of them- 
selves — give them sufficient heat, but had their limits — 
proved inadequate below a certain gravity. Something must 
be improved. This troubled me. 

The woods are always like the gates of Heaven to me. 
I slipped away in search of them. Perhaps I feared, in 



408 A Psychic Autobiography 

spite of all, lest I should lose my faith. As one whose feet 
are planted in the sea, I felt the buffeting of waves, and 
cried aloud for help. I would not be denied. 

With that, one came and spoke: Though what he said I 
need not wholly tell, I felt that I was " comforted with 
flagons " — still I taste the draught. At last the spirit spoke 
of earthly things; and I suppose no spirit is too great to 
know of them, if he but knows of us. Not to exalt unduly, 
this had been a business man on earth, and knew the way of 
it. And so to give me cheer he added this : " The time will 
come when you shall see a way to burn the heaviest oil that 
can be made to flow." I thought : " At worst, that isn't 
tar!" — and drew the line at that: — so pledged myself to 
try whatever ranked above. 

The man who pledged himself came from Los Angeles and 
met me in Chicago, — rather incidently, it proved. He had 
two burners of his own on which to form a Company, but 
wanted mine as well, on which to found another Company, 
belike, when time should serve. Not quite aware of all, I 
did my part, at his expense, in testing Lima Oil — the 
heaviest I had tried — succeeding fairly well. At least, I 
ran De Tamble's eighty horse-power boiler for a month 
with watered stuff just piped from out the wells, and used, 
by scientific test, two barrels and a half against a ton of 
coal, though not without some carbon on the plates. No 
doubt my partner would have kept his word but for the 
double load. He had to be released. But since I claim a 
Psychic origin for all this toil of mine, it seems permissible 
to say that for economy my own results have never been ap- 
proached. At least they were not when the Navy " Liquid 
Fuel Board," at government expense — using the best among 
the atomizing burners, tested them for many months, one 
after one. I had its thanks for those reviews of its report 
I published in " Steam-Engineering " and " The Engineer; " 
so I am well-informed. 

But now my furnace work had caught attention. By and 
bye I found myself upon the verge of getting rich. Merely 
to do again what I had done before, I should have had a 
company with half-a-million stock — I being given half, and, 
for a bonus, just five thousand dollars cash in hand. It 



Valleys and Pitfalls 409 

wasn't I who framed that liberal contract be assured, nor 
yet my "silent partner." Alack! Just on the point of 
" firing up," my visible partner lost his all upon the Stock 
Exchange ; and so the scheme fell through. But well it did ! 
For " fuel oil " came into use, — sixteen degrees of gravity 
too low for me. It would have loaded well my burning 
plates with carbon. Down went my hands. I dropped the 
work forthwith. Till faith should yoke itself with circum- 
stance, the hindered ark must wait! 

" But how about that spirit-promise — ' You shall see a 
way?'" Oh, I suppose the waters of the "lower pool" 
had not been " gathered up." The rains were not in sea- 
son. My other work had waited very long, and why not 
this? All things must take their turn. 

But now two hands caught mine; and Orrington and 
Mary Foster — marvelously kind, and not devoid of faith — 
said : " This is too hard for you. Come rest with us." 
Now these were part and parcel of the Canning Company, 
that sought to be ten years before, when came the business 
crash that stopped such work; and these were loyal — they 
believed in me. God sends me friends whenever there is 
need — incarnate or discarnate all is one; and if at last He 
sends me enemies, they serve who would have harmed! 
Dark threads with light, to make the lovely pattern evident ; 
and not a shade too deep! 

We'll say the King has need of tapestry. Make haste — 
He is the King! Set up your loom, stretch on your warp, 
spin out your many colored threads for woof; — But wait 
till Raphael comes to paint the picture clear for copying; — 
then ah, be slow! Set every stitch aright, (He is the 
King). 

You who have watched my weaving cannot fail to know 
how all impossible it would have been, save that a master- 
weaver guided all. Do not forget that, only for a psychic 
vision — not to be effaced — there would have been no loom, 
no hope, no inspiration, no desire, no courage made invin- 
cible by faith. " So to be exercised therewith " makes great 
the soul for time and for eternity. God spare us idleness. 

So, being loosed from bonds, and fortified by sympathy, — 
also not wholly destitute (My "Kansas Bird Songs" 



410 A Psychic Autobiography 

brought a tidy sum), I left the sunken road. Through all 
those years of valley-wandering, if I but lifted up my eyes, 
there stood my cross upon the mountain top ! " Carry the 
burden till you reach the cross!" So one had said, and 
fain would I have climbed, save for the spirit-hands that 
held me fast. But now they let me go. What though 
the rocks were sharp and feet must bleed? What though 
the mountain lion lurked, and one must guard the steps 
from pit and sheer descent? Still one must climb, or die 
of grief and shame. The vision had its way with me! 
Always I sought the heights. 

Facts that appeal to sense must have their place in every 
Psychic history; and some, I needs must tell about, were 
fearsome things. But, after all, nothing can be without 
divine consent; and though a sword rise up from out the 
deep, behold a lifting arm. " Clothed in white samite, 
mystic, wonderful," and have no fear. 

Lo, these be spirit-mysteries! Now let us drop to sordid 
facts — subject to transmutation, gold for lead — if any have 
the art. 

And first: One of our whilom company for canning 
meats, not lacking faith, had kept my apparatus safe through 
all these years. True, patents all had lapsed, but better 
ones might be in lieu of them and all the work be saved. 
Meantime, three heads of packing houses, Pond and Under- 
wood and Fowler much befriended me. And let me say 
that I have been in touch with all the greater firms, nor 
missed a courtesy nor heard a doubting word. True, none 
of them could drop their long-established ways, their great 
equipments costing many millions, even to get a better can- 
ning process; moreover, I was well aware that on my side 
that could not be allowed ; but I may reckon them as friends 
(not enemies in any case) and give them thanks. 

And now I had a room accorded me in Fowler's monster 
building (not a cannery) ; and did the things I would, 
aided by his advice, because he knew the market well and 
what was needed for the finer trade. He sent me to the 
chilling rooms, to make selection when and how I pleased. 

The keeper roared at me : " Nobody puts up meats in 
such a state; you'll have them ruined in the cans." No less 



Valleys and Pitfalls 411 

they kept. We had the experts in, who brought those other 
goods to make comparison. Mine answered for themselves. 
No one has ever yet disputed their superiority. 

So much for education! Always something more to 
learn; but here was quite enough, so men averred, to found 
a business on and look for rich returns. At least I had my 
cooking-process well in hand. 

Undoubtedly our worldly rush and roar affright the 
birds; at best, who hears them sing? And how was I — so 
wrapped about with noise — to hear a spirit voice proclaim- 
ing good or ill? Not given to tremors, prone to see the 
brighter side and live by faith ; yet I arose one morning, all 
depressed: "Disaster comes!" And through the day I 
walked as in a cloud. " Disaster comes and there is no es- 
cape." Till suddenly I dropped upon my knees: "Lord, 
let disaster come to me — myself, but let it aid my work ! " 

Now notice: It was I who spoke of sacrifice; no one ex- 
acted it. At once the sky came clear. I rose up well con- 
tent. " Let come what will, so I may do my work." And 
I suppose that spirits knew just what would come and might 
have hindered it ! Nay, possibly they planned : " If this 
one thing be brought about, her work and ours may prosper 
finally, however, long the time. But let her first consent — 
nay, let her ask!" 

Do you remember how Judge Evelyn said in 1873: " Can 
you endure ? If flesh and spirit prove too weak .... resign 
your chosen work. I shall myself pronounce you free from 
guilt? " And how he showed me in a vision wonderful, my 
future self and what would happen many years thereafter? 
How I answered him : " Accept my service ; even so, I want 
my work?" And praying to a higher One than he, im- 
plored again: " Master, I want my work?" 

No need to ask again: "Can you endure?" The time 
was close at hand ; and once again I said : " Accept all sacri- 
fice, but let me keep my work." 

Within an hour, I said to Lafa Jones (my nephew who 
assisted me in certain tests), "Let's go a-visiting." And I 
was moved to go where I had never been, nor ever dreamed 
of going. We climbed an outer stair — not quite so high 



412 A Psychic Autobiography 

as Jacob's ladder — spent a merry hour and said: "Good- 
night." 

Right from the top I fell! And Lafa picked me up a 
crippled creature — not " a thing of shreds and patches " 
happily, but sure to carry crutches quite two years — and be 
a spectacle! (You should have seen policemen follow me 
along the streets, when I emerged — frail as a cyclamen!) 

" What was the use? " Why, don't you see! It took me 
to the Woman's Temperance Hospital, founded by banker 
Hobbes and wife; and there I met with Mary Allen West, 
the " Union Signal " editor (who died a martyr in a year 
or so). Within two months, because of her, in chief, and 
other women-souls, was brought about a Woman's Canning 
Company for which I long had prayed — not being worldly 
wise. 

Sometimes God answers prayers 

" And thrusts the thing we asked for in our face — 
A Gauntlet with a gift in it." 

Suppose the gauntlet buffet you, — what then? Be pa- 
tient; take the gift; and render thanks for all in spite of 
buffetings. 

This company was organized upon the basis of a newly 
granted process-patent-claim, indubitably mine; — we'll say, 
food-products vacuum-prepared and moderately cooked. The 
contract granted right of use, chiefly exclusive, save on 
heavy meats — not to be canned by lesser folk than slaught- 
erers. 

So with a hundred thousand capital stock and eighteen 
hundred dollars cash (myself as business manager) our 
Archer Avenue factory opened up. And now, in lieu of 
transfers (cast aside except for bottling juice of grapes) I 
studied out retorts for larger work and had for certainty 
my secret valves — not to be shown till patented, and safe 
for steam or air or vacuum, year after year. So we were 
well equipped for enterprise. 

Nothing so good as tongues, by way of meat; nothing so 
hard to get. Yet, by the grace of E. F. Robins (manager 
at Underwood's), we were assured of them in quantity. To 



Valleys and Pitfalls 413 

these I added novelties — desserts and puddings not to be 
preserved by other methods; meaning to follow on with 
many more. So far, we aimed to be monopolists. Who 
casts the stone? 

But suddenly (please let me talk in tropes!) — our fragile 
boat, with a white sail or two, just putting out to sea, and 
not a cloud in sight, rocked in a little squall. You've heard 
of them; but how they start and how they die away, not 
even Captain Marryatt could guess. And through the 
pother, women's voices rose 

"And then unto a hoarser murmur grew." 

" Stop now ! Go back to shore ; load in the heavy meats ! 
Why not be slaughterers? This woman has defrauded us. 
We'll have our heavy meats with all the rest, or sink the 
boat." 

There! Have I kept the metaphor intact? — 

But anyway our President and Secretary held us with a 
grip week after week; — the factory deserted, Lafa and I 
out skirmishing for bread (to starve inventors — that's the 
good old way!). Till many lawyers said: "We can't 
compel; you have enormous interests already — be content. 
But organize anew, increase your stock tenfold and so get 
rich." 

And that explains how very rich we came to be after a 
time — alas! Till all men heard of us! Would I could 
follow comedy with comedy; but seas are dangerous, skip- 
pers and mates not always competent, and winds blow high. 
To tell the truth I thought about " The Crusade Docu- 
ments " and wished them lashed aboard, — for anchor pos- 
sibly in case of wreck. 

Now being " wise as wise," I voted in for President that 
one whom others chose (as I had done before) ; and made 
my humble self just one of seven directors — only a business 
manager, intent on running factories and selling goods. 
Pray what would you have done? Kept all the power? 

You think that spirits should have guarded me? Why, 
let us say they did. Not shrieking out : " Avoid the hunt- 

" Escape the 



414 A Psychic Autobiography 

avalanche!" It seems I did them all — but not of human 
wit; for these, as mountain guides, went on before or fol- 
lowed me along my pre-determined way; and when my 
slender alpenstock was sure to break, and strength and skill 
might not avail, why there they were to save! I was the 
climber — they the rescuers. And always, understand, there 
was no other way but up the crags and all along the clefts! 

Straightway, I charged our lady-officers : " This is to be 
a woman's industry. No man will vote our stock, transact 
our business, keep our books, pronounce on women's wages, 
supervise our factories. Give men whatever work is suit- 
able, but keep the governing power. This is a business 
training school for working women — you with all the rest. 
Here is a mission ; let it be fulfilled." All this they under- 
stood. They pledged themselves; they laughed for joy of 
it! 

Now, being well at work, with orders coming in, I sent 
a box of tongues to Thurber-Whyland Company, New 
York — declared to be the greatest jobbers on the continent. 
Straight came their most amazing order: " Twenty- four 
thousand cases wanted soon as possible " — almost six hun- 
dred thousand cans! And we, with two retorts, were put- 
ting up, say possibly four hundred cans a day, and selling 
them in haste to can the more. We had not advertised our 
stock, save in a casual way. I did not mean we should, till 
firmly placed beyond all peradventure. Women must never 
say that they had risked — and lost. So there was little in 
the Treasury. 

Meantime, not three months well at work, we paid our 
bills, and throve, and won respect. 

About those days our president came in with what she 
thought was very cheering news. A group of gentlemen 
would pledge themselves to put in eighty thousand dollars, 
manage our affairs without our help, enlarge our factories to 
meet demands, take every burden off, and give us half the 
profits. Moreover they were honest men of large affairs. 
What better could we do? 

Was this disloyalty in her? I would not think it so. 
You thrust a rod in water — how it seems to bend! And 



Valleys and Pitfalls 415 

yet you call it straight. I trusted her, and trusted all alike 
— chiefly because I loved. 

" A little leaven leaveneth the lump." Fermenting ele- 
ments, once brought in play, produced results. To get the 
help of men and not invalidate our contract — theirs and 
mine — became a moving motive. It may as well be owned 
that I was frozen out from counsel, — these were governing, 
and I was nought. Why, that was what myself had chosen ! 
I to give the service, they to have the mastership; — too late 
to lift the voice! 

At last, before the year was out, they found a way. It 
did not seem the way of wickedness to them, nor yet to me; 
and though I hated it, when all the others gave consent — 
rather than be a quarreler — I answered " Aye." So far I 
share the guilt. 

I make the story short as possible. It must be told; for 
even so my Woman's Company, so long desired, so ardently 
beloved, met with untimely death. We'll talk with bated 
breath. 

Two men were pledged to advertise our stock at heavy 
cost to them — and none to us: To sell at par, to give us 
half-returns until we had enough for honest enterprise, and 
then to drop away and leave all further benefits with us. 
It sounded fair — if one must deal in stocks. A woman's 
mind might take it in, and not be over-taxed, — unless in- 
deed it chanced to effervesce and " work like madness in 
the brain." I pray you make excuse. Even a corporation 
meant to be an honest one may have its underself ; and notice 
how a stream that had a mountain source, will flow discol- 
ored past your very door and find a stagnant marsh. The 
springs of God abound; but let us drain our bogs. 

So drop to common talk. Now it was thought worth 
while to start a country factory far North, where people 
urged and furnished means. This was to give us what the 
City lacked — pure produce, poultry, eggs for puddings — 
whatsoever served ; and having given assent to what our 
officers desired, I sped away to find the place and get the 
building planned. 

When all was fitted up and work about to start, our gov- 
erning directors came and stayed a week, not to report their 



416 A Psychic Autobiography 

acts, but supervise my own. Nothing they told of what was 
being done by way of advertising stock and selling it. 
Nothing I asked — and I was far away from guessing out 
the truth. Instead, I set myself to make them understand 
my part of it; for this was manufacture, — these must learn. 
I couldn't always hobble around and run retorts to teach 
our working girls; someone must be prepared to take my 
place. I would have put the three in pinafores to get my 
way. This is to let you know how dread a thing was I, — 
how all compact of tyranny. 

Come, let us hurry on! Yet wait a moment! Months 
before this time when all was roseate enough to give these 
others cheer and give me happy thoughts (howbeit " A storm 
was coming but the woods were still "), a something stronger 
than myself got hold of me, and drew me unto shade. It 
seemed there was no sun! I should have been afraid, but 
fear and faith are grown from different soils. There in the 
dark alone, I leaned on faith. 

And first I prayed for what I wanted first, because it 
seemed that all I most desired must follow after that, — 
Wealth for my Woman's Company! Right in the ear of 
Heaven, I called for gold, much gold — and felt no shame! 
Why, honest gold, of course! I dreamed of nothing else. 

One of an old religion (is there a young religion?), said 
to me one time: " God and the holy angels love the sight of 
gold." But then it must be gold thrice purified — right from 
the crucible! And that is hard to get. 

And now I think that God would have us pray with faith, 
even out of ignorance, — He, out of wisdom, granting what 
we ask, to show a better way. Never suppose that we, who 
have our Psychic visions, always understand their ultimate 
significance. Such have their lights and shades; we have to 
study them, — to guess them out in part, albeit we somewhat 
see. 

Now I was shown a hill but little clothed with verdure. 
" That," I thought, " is ours. It needs the rain." So far 
I understood. And then I saw — thrust up along the side 
to reach the crest, an iron pipe — not small — and out of it 
abundant water spouted, flooding all. And this was forced, 



Valleys and Pitfalls 417 

I knew, from far below; for how could water rise beyond 
its source by natural means. 

Then when the flow had ceased, I looked for flowers, but 
there was nothing to be seen, save just a barren hill, the 
little verdure washed away — a sodden slope not worth a 
ploughman's hire. 

One time — and that was very long before — my spirit- 
guardian, Dr. Andrews, gently chided me for want of trust. 
" You lack perception of your own perceptions." That puz- 
zled me; and yet the man born blind, after the miracle saw 
men as trees, and we, with Psychic eyes half-opened, cannot 
claim to see inerrably. As to this vision of the hill and 
spouting pipe, it seems I should have fully understood; and 
yet my eyes were holden. When I looked for more and 
nothing came (remember, nothing comes because you will 
it so) I thought: "At least, the lower lands will be en- 
riched," — so made myself content. And after all, the lower 
lands must yield the heavy crops, and not the hills. Don't 
sow the seeds too high. 

Mind you, our advertising agents scattered ours from sea 
to sea; good ground or fallow, marsh or stony places — still 
the sowers sowed! 

After some weeks — two months or so — I chanced (but is 
there any chance?) to catch a paper up, — and so I read at 
last what took me hurrying home. Then by another chance 
— those governing directors being out of sight — one who was 
keeping books delivered me a letter, sent astray at first and 
sent astray again, not to the advertisers but to us. 

" I think," she said, " it's time for you to know." 

A letter headed by a single truth; un joint the rest — you 
got the lies, all capable of propagation; lies, on lies! This 
was the style of it. 

" A Woman's Company for working women — started by 
a woman. Twenty-five dollar shares, all owned and voted 
on by women only!" (Men had slithered in; their names 
were on the books!). " Make haste and buy before a total 
sale. Just fifteen hundred dollars builds a factory! Select 
a site and send the money on; we'll do the rest. We've set 
our mark; there'll be a thousand factories within a year." 
(Only one crippled woman capable of starting them.) 



418 A Psychic Autobiography 

" No one so poor but she may buy a share and look for divi- 
dends! Immense returns!" 

So widows, washer-women, working girls, were being 
tricked; and every lying letter (thousands on the wing) was 
made to bear our very signatures and seal ! — my name in- 
dorsing all. Friends, this was horrible. Nothing in all 
the world for me to do but stop this mighty enginery — this 
windmill-force that drained the valley brooks to wash all 
growing things from off this hill of ours — our very place 
of shame. 

And so I hurled my puny self against these whirling vans, 

" For women are Knights-errant to the last ; 
And if Cervantes had been greater still, 
He had made his Don a Donna." 

I brought no accusation, called no conference, but sought 
a lawyer out: "You organized us, save us. Stop these 
plunderers." So Aldrich, (then United States attorney- 
general) with him arrested them — stuffed with ungodly 
gains; — eight thousand dollars in a single mail — with more 
and more to come; for what could stop the flow? 

I let complaisance go and called Directors' meeting. 
Therein I took my rightful place for governance (sustained 
by Mr. Aldrich) : " Haste in restitution — humble confession 
to investors; death if that be willed, but death with honor 
left." 

That might have been, save for the death which might be 
waived aside and none of us desired. There still was hope. 
But then " upstarted Urgan, hideous dwarf," and who 
should say him " nay? " 

" She signed him once, she signed him twice, 
That lady was so brave, 
The fouler grew his goblin hue, 
The darker grew the cave ! " 

Truly he had a fearsome way withal , — the nostril smoked. 
Come, let's not be objurgatory! This was a human law- 



Valleys and Pitfalls 41'9 

yer's underself — no less (alas, no more!). And yet he 
went among us like a raging fire. All things were given 
up to be devoured. " This woman — who is she to order 
you about? She owns no stock, she never asked for it. I 
kept it back for you. She had inventions — what of that? 
She gave them up; they're yours, see that you hold them 
fast." 

" But who will teach us how to manage them ? " 

" Command her to instruct. If she refuse, I'll make it 
hot for her ! " — He did for half a year ! Meantime I sent 
instructions in by folios, being locked outside and " no ad- 
mittance " written on the doors. 

" But who will be our business manager and sell our 
goods? " 

" I've hired a man for that." 

" What ! Must we pay two hundred dollars every 
month, instead of forty-five ? " 

"Well, yes; — a man you know! And haven't I secured 
you all the million stock, instead of half? Go on and sell." 

Even so they did. And still the cry went out : " A Wo- 
man's Industry. .. .No man employed .... Inventor philan- 
thropic — gives her stock." And still the hill was being 
drenched — the brooks were being drained. 

Incredible? — But true. Along this very way, with fears, 
faint protests, futile tears, they followed him down to his 
underworld, and got the soot of it. 

Not all of them. One strove to hold them back, — one 
clear of judgment, incorruptible as spirits are who know 
the way to Heaven. Her name was Lois Celley; let her be 
extolled. As for the other names — once written plain — the 
time is long, the ink has faded out. 

I think, — most truly think, that in beyond God's temple 
gates, one stands with sprinkling hyssop, naming us by other 
names than these we bear on earth. There Urgan's very 
self, redeemed through grace, shall stand as fair a Knight 
as ever trod the sward. So let it be. 

Through all these months — hurt nigh to death with 
treachery — I used to think about my rescued twelve, and 
long for love again. Those would have died for me; and 
these — it seemed that I must die because of them. They 



420 A Psychic Autobiography 

too shall be forgiven. Do I forgive? God knows! I dare 
not say. 

Darkness that might be felt! But in the thick of it 
Judge Evelyn came — a viewless spirit, not a voiceless one. 
He made me understand that he had found a man yet on the 
earth, to be my faithful friend. Not one whom I had ever 
seen, but one who would not fail through all my mortal 
life to stand on guard and save my work and me. He said : 
"A man of honesty." So I was cheered; nor had I long 
to wait. Through nineteen years, this man he chose and 
sent me out to find — this Charles C. Linthicum, Solicitor — 
has been my counsellor, my aid, my sure defense. And if I 
stand today, with both hands full of patent values five-fold 
greater than at first, that is because of him. No need to 
scour his armor for the tournament. It shines — the KING 
may see. 

As to the Woman's Company, so caught and harnessed in 
and whirled away, why tell the worst? I would not if I 
could. But being down at last among those trampling 
hoofs, strong hands got hold of me and dragged me out 
whether I chose or no; — clean hands of honorable men. 
Said one of them: " We will not see you killed." So I es- 
caped. Alas ! " On went the chariot ; " even the down- 
ward way, spite of attempts to guide. Some two years after 
that the law reached out, flung wide the treasury door, and 
proved its emptiness. Widows and washer-women, working 
girls and men alike despoiled .... For these I well believe 
God has his coin of recompense. 

For me, being released and safe, I took my work in hand, 
and would have staggered on — did stagger on until I knew 
of Death not far away. But while I mused : " Here is no 
room for him ; God will not let me die ; " a spirit came — 
God's harbinger of Life. He showed an open grave, my- 
self upon the brink. He said : " Step in if so you choose, — 
none shall condemn ; or turn aside and pass." 

How turn aside, was past my power to guess; not past 
my power to will. For how could I be recreant who had 
so great a trust? 

Now, all this while, four sisters would have cherished me ; 
and one of these, just now, contrived a way to save. I let 



Valleys and Pitfalls 421 

them have their will. Nine years — so low had sunk the 
springs of life — I lived because I would, and waited for the 
sun and wind and prairie-quietude to do their healing work. 
For Death, however strong, is not so strong as Faith — 
whose other name is Prophecy. I knew God's time would 
come. 

No doubt His angels prophesied of us, or ever seas were 
gathered up and land went dry. His older angels prophe- 
sied of them, while yet the suns were mist. And do you 
scorn our faith? Let be! We also prophesy of lesser 
things. We follow on — we haste. " Much people " know 
of us " in Heaven," We need not be ashamed. 




XXXII 

FOUNTAINS OF DESIRE 

THROUGH all those idle years only to 
think about my vanished work would 
shake me to the heart. I dared not pray 
for it, — I kept my soul aloof. But now 
and then I said, and said no more : " Mas- 
ter, I trust ! " — then turned and plucked 

my flowers and heard the birds, but never 

sang myself. Enough to live and wait! 

One happy dawn I slipped from bonds of sleep and grew 
aware of unexampled bodily ease and mental equipose. 
Then, on the instant, I began to see. Whether the things 
I saw were etchings traced upon the brain or pictured in 
the air by spirit-hands — my very own (the lower self sub- 
merged from consciousness) or other spirit hands, is not for 
me to say. I saw no spirit, heard no voice, received no tele- 
pathic word; as thus: "We bring you gifts; do with them 
as you will." Instead of that, my quickened mind per- 
ceived the pictured things and gave them names; just as you 
name the children sent of God, and dare to call them yours. 
These are the things I saw: 

First a retort — a quadrilateral " vacuum-chest " like those 
I had devised and used for canning air-exhausted goods by 
means of heat. I looked within and there was something 
never seen before in any vacuum. An underchamber, sep- 
arate from all the rest, — a flattened shell of little depth, but 
wide and long, hermetically sealed, having two pipes that 
pierced the further wall. Outside of that were valves for 
entrance and escape. 

Strange how I knew the office and the name ! " That's 
my transmitter — meant to carry warmth, and not degrade 
the vacuum even by the lightest vapor-drift. This I shall 
fill with heated air or circulating water not too hot, or 

422 



Fountains of Desire 423 

possibly with graduated steam. This does away with water- 
baths about my jars for raising temperatures — " to can, and 
not to cook." 

What next? Slid in on narrow ribs, close to the roof, 
I saw a fluid-feeding pan, having a central orifice sealed from 
without. I saw a new device — the wheel that turned and 
let no air go in, a lengthened sealing stem, a seat, and on 
the other side a little feeding-pipe to fill the pan. Just 
under all, I saw a trough to take the fluid out through 
branching arms and spill it in the jars. 

Where were the jars? "They stood in rows upon the 
flattened shell, filled full of ruddy fruits, just plucked and 
ready for the process — every one, its cap half set in place, 
dropped in a tightly fitting case, its mouth well out of sight. 
Easy to understand ! Here is a way to seal without ex- 
posure to air; fill jars and cases full; reach in and tighten 
every cap in turn — sunk under fluid, safe from all the 
winds." I laughed for very joy! So simple, after all! 

The door was shut; but still I seemed to see with Psychic 
eyes whatever passed within; the rending of the cells, the 
air-escape from fruits below and fluid over-head, the drip- 
ping down in unison, the filling of the jars brimful, the 
cases topping them. And under these the heated shell, trans- 
mitting gentle warmth by contact — all the space a-cold be- 
cause of vacuum, and yet the vaporous boiling going on. I 
watched the little hurry, starting first low down, the up- 
ward drift, the downward flow, the rise again, the fall, the 
slow subsidence; — airless fruit and airless fluid waiting to 
be sealed. And then — the door flung wide; — nothing to do 
but lift the cased-in jars, their mouths submerged from sight, 
dip fingers down, make tight the caps, slip out and set 
aside for trade. 

" Carry the child," said those angelic guests, long time 
before: "Nothing shall harm the child." And not a 
wicked hand of man or woman, all these years, had plucked 
the cloak away and snatched the babe! And now indeed 
the cross was not too far away, though on the mountain top ! 
— nor I too weak to climb ! Well had the babe been hidden ! 
Well does God protect! 

Now look you! Whether I, being myself a spirit, or 



424 A Psychic Autobiography 

whether any finite spirit in the universe, had done this thing 
to me, no need to ask. God had befriended me. We face 
His light, we breathe His blessed air, we plunge in healing 
springs, and have a right to all these gifts I tell you of, 
were His to give whatever way He chose; and other gifts 
as well. God has been good to me. I render thanks. 

When in the course of time I had these new inventions 
legally in hand (five patents waiting issue — mechanism, food 
uncooked, or cooked, or dessicated), pending work to come, 
I sat me down to think: 

" Well, how about those three distressful years I spent 
in burning oil? Spirits incited me — they prophesied suc- 
cess. Did not Judge Evelyn ask for partnership, with profit 
sharing, when the gain should come? Spirits are not infal- 
lible we'll say, but when they speak, at least they tell the 
truth; and one who never lied to me on earth, came back 
and promised me that I should find a way to burn " the 
heaviest oil that could be made to flow." That seems be- 
yond all possibility; reason revolts; but faith accepts. I 
have not been betrayed, nor anyway deceived." And so, 
with not a doubt, I let the matter rest. 

After my dinner hour, I fell asleep — no Psychic sleep aft 
all, but just an old folks' drowse — you know the way of it; 
as little wonderful as any moving cloud that casts a shadow 
down. It passed, but out of it had leaped, as by a lightning 
flash that yet remained a steadfast luminant — a compre- 
hensive, all-embracing knowledge. How to master " fuel- 
oil " for furnace work. No need to see or think or trepi- 
date: I knew. 

"A Burner?" No; a burning system. Fluid level cer- 
tainly — that basic principle (though all beside had scoffed 
at gravity and utilized the "squirt.") Out went my shal- 
low pans and vaporizing plates ("the best of friends must 
part ") ; in went the bricks in place of them to seal my fur- 
nace. And what was left? My jutting bridge; my side- 
ling baffle-plates, the further bed, the arching roof friend 
Morrison had taught me how to shape, the lowered " vel- 
vetry," the lessened throat, the dip and rise to reach a nar- 
rowed stack, and carry little heat. 

But for the System: First a flue in front for downward 



Fountains of Desire 425 

rush of air to feed the tuyers set low and used to comple- 
ment the natural draft (for Nature knows the way) ; also 
to muffle noise and mitigate the heat for stifling men ; above 
the tuyers a couch for " levelers " — fed from an outer 
" safety trap," an inward reaching cul-de-sac to hold dis- 
tributors, and under them a perforated arch or checker-work 
protecting them from heat; beneath that massive arch, a 
raging flame to catch the falling drops and give no chance 
for gas-escape — to tear their hydro-carbons into finest atoms, 
burn them gas and all; to drift the heat along — oh, not for 
melting furnace-walls by misdirected flames, but — platinum 
perhaps! And not alone for generating steam to run our 
mills, but possibly to drive those battle-ships not driven yet 
with oil. Smoke ? — you need not stint your oil ; keep open 
hearth; give blast for agitation; — then behold the flames 
along your furnace-front rise up and seek escape — turn back 
and heat the more! Why, there you get economy, effi- 
ciency and might! 

Well, anyway, I have my liberal patent claims allowed. 
They do me ample grace. 



They who are disenthralled from flesh, cannot escape the 
law that made and makes them one with human kind. What 
though they learn the speech of seraphim? The old, fa- 
miliar words are theirs to use again and ours to hear, what 
time they make descent — as verily they may! 

And when they come — not loving Heaven the less but us 
the more — they plan to do us good. They walk with us at 
need; they sit with us at meat; they break and bless our 
bread ; and if we toil at night and get no fish, they stand on 
shore and call, as one of old : " Cast now the net upon the 
other side." We cast — the catch is great. How shall we 
drag it in? And when we come to land, be sure that we 
shall find the fire of coals — the Master near at hand. 

And still you challenge me for proof of spirit-intercourse? 

Now, I am prone to think that where you see a flower 
among the garden-beds, some hand has dropped the seed. 
And where you see a wide parterre, some gardener has been 
at weary work. Forethought and care — the little plants 



426 A Psychic Autobiography 

along the edge, the larger ones be3 r ond, space for the sturdy 
bush, a trellis for the tender vine, the gentle showers for all, 
the glowing harmonies of hue, order and life and beauty 
plain to see — all these to come by chance? 

Have you not watched with me the shaping of the beds, 
that pulverizing of the soil, and how the seeds were scat- 
tered here and there, and how the rains came down and 
frosts were fended off and how the blossoms grew? Have 
you not seen the print of feet along the paths where went 
the gardeners? What need to pull the plants, and pry 
about the roots in search of mysteries? Let be! The seeds 
are ripe. Come, let us sort them out! 

When John, the Revelator, saw one sent from Heaven 
and would have worshipped him, the spirit answered : " See 
thou do it not; I am thy fellow servant — one of thy breth- 
ren, the prophets." Who shall say, that when the lesser 
ones descend, they do not come as earth-born souls and let 
us know their earthly names? For even Moses and Elias 
came that way, — howbeit we hear they shone. 

Soon after I had " touched " my promised work in 1 871 — 
only the rim of it, the white periphery whose belted force 
should start so many wheels (for nothing moves alone;) — 
it came about that one who called himself Judge Evelyn, 
drew very near to me. Whether his raiment shone, I did 
not see; but this I know; he gave himself a voice and talked 
with me alone. Having the gift of prophecy, and knowing 
I should walk the way of suffering, he let me know, but 
cast a light before. He said: " I choose a text to comfort 
you now and hereafter — all your earthly life: Read Judges, 
first, fifteenth." 

I turned the leaves and read : " She said to him : ' Give 
me a blessing ; thou hast given me a Southland ; give me also 
springs of water,' and Caleb gave her the upper springs and 
the nether springs." 

Now, after that, " Judge Evelyn " named me " Friend ; " 
and I was glad and proud. He asked for willing service — 
not for subjugation; spirits lead no slaves. And so I fol- 
lowed where he chose to lead, or high or low — to mountain 
tops that overlooked the earth or into caverns dank with 
spray of seas where none had been before. 



Fountains of Desire 427 

And now, it seems that whatsoever path my feet must 
walk, even till the " cool of day " these prophet spirits 
traced; and whatsoever hands should reach to give me help 
they saw from far away ; and whatsoever bird of prey should 
drop to clutch the lamb or snatch the creeping babe, for him 
their bows were bent, their arrows set to slay; and whatso- 
ever God would have me bring for temple service — candle- 
sticks and lamps with oil for light, incense and onyx stones, 
or altar brass, with leavened cakes and doves for sacrifice — 
they put within my reach. And yet the end is not! 

Last year, that one who had been silent long, returned 
and spoke again: " Friend, you have not been recreant, and I 
rejoice. But write — the time draws near; fulfillment waits." 

To write — why that was hard. I urged the while I 
wrote: " See! I am old and worn and hard-bested. Come, 
comfort me with words." 

Then one drew near and named the Book of books! 
" Read Joshua — fifteenth chapter, nineteenth verse." There- 
with I turned the leaves and read : " Give me a blessing ; 
for thou hast given me a Southland; give me also springs 
of water." And he gave her the upper springs and the 
nether springs. 



Behold my Fountains of Desire! Friends be at peace. 
Farewell. 



APPENDIX 

I. (See page 12.) 

By late advices from the War Department and from the 
New Jersey Adjutant-General, we learn that three men of 
that State, named John Mott, served in the War of the 
Revolution. The account given from both sources, of one 
of these three tallies with our family traditions so far as 
they extend. 

This one " was appointed first lieutenant in Captain 
Thomas Paterson's Company of Colonel Elias Dayton's bat- 
talion of forces raised in New Jersey, February 8th, 1776, 
and re-engaged and promoted November 30, 1776. The 
records also show that one John Mott (the same) served 
as a Captain in the Third New Jersey Regiment, commanded 
by Colonel Elias Dayton, Revolutionary War. This name 
appears on the rolls of that organization, for the period from 
February 14, 1777, to February, 1779; which shows that he 
was commissioned November 30, 1776." 

My mother stated from remembrance of his conversation, 
that although persistently calling himself a Quaker, he had 
felt that when necessity should arise he must be ready to join 
in the defense of the State. This may account for the 
earlier lieutenancy; but if we have him rightly located, his 
term of army service, whether as Captain, private or secret 
and trusted agent, was exactly five years and eight months 
from the date of re-organization for active warfare. He 
was therefore one of the Continental Army, until the news 
arrived of the signing, at Paris, of the Treaty of Peace, 
when forces were mustered out. 

My honored Cousin Wesley Mott, only son of my 
Mother's brother, Mayhew Daggett Mott, writes to me of 
him: 

" My own father has often told me about his terrible en- 
counter with the six Hessian soldiers, and his going to Wash- 

428 



Appendix II. 429 

ington's camp and accepting an appointment under him as 
lieutenant and afterward being engaged in the battles of 
Brandywine and Germantown. Your mother, when I vis- 
ited her forty years ago (in 1867) told me many additional 
facts of great interest about grandfather Mott. 

" Mr. Barnett of Neenah, Wisconsin, formerly of the 
State of New York" (now deceased) "told me that when 
a boy he had been acquainted with my old grandfather Mott 
of Revolutionary times, and that he always dressed in and 
wore the Revolutionary costume. His mother, Sarah 
Collins, was a Quaker preacher of great ability. Her 
biography is published by the Quakers. Your reminiscences 
of Beulah, &c, are very interesting indeed. John Mott, 
my father's half brother, was a very strong character. I 
have heard my father talk about him a great many times. 

" The William Mann you speak of visited us at my 
father's home in Burnt Hills (Saratoga County, New York). 
He spent some time at our house. I found him a very 
learned man and his conversation was very interesting. I 
have some of his poetry preserved. My father loved and 
admired him greatly. He made a great impression upon 
me. I heard him preach and my recollections of him are 
fresh and clear." 

II. (See page 74.) 

A letter received in March of this year from Lyman C. 
Howe, the well-known Psychist and lecturer of Fredonia, 
N. Y., informs me that Jeremiah Carter had passed away 
not long before. Always truly respected, and considered 
wholly genuine in his mediumistic or Psychic out-givings, 
his loss was evidently regretted. At the time I first met 
him at the home of my friend Mrs. Lowell, he appeared to 
be fully thirty-five years old, — I being just nineteen. By that 
estimate he must have passed his ninetieth year. That he 
should have lived so long seems to indicate that a life rich 
in Psychic experience is not diminished in length because of 
that, but rather prolonged. One of the best known of the 
old-time spiritualists — Dr. J. M. Peebles — though a very 
slender, and narrow-chested man, is to-day, at eighty-seven, 
actively engaged in traveling, lecturing and writing for the 



430 Appendix III. 

press. Mr. Howe himself, by no means of a rugged build, 
is some years older than myself — probably seventy-eight; 
while his spiritual-minded wife is eighty-three; and of my 
friends, the Higleys and Browns (parents) — all more or less 
strongly Psychic — three lived to be about ninety and one to 
be eighty. 

These facts would be accounted for by a certain Western 
gentleman, who, arguing that human life is gradually short- 
ening, naively observed that all those long-lived men and 
women of whom we hear belonged to a former generation! 
Let us hope that our eminent Psychists of to-day, may ex- 
emplify my contention that to be exercised spiritually, tends 
to physical health and increased length of days. 

III. (See page 139.) 

Cora Tolman Strickland to Amanda T. Jones, April 29, 
1 9 10: Gowanda, Erie County, N. Y., R. F. D. 

" Dear 'Sister Theo ' : Your letter, so welcome, was read 
with great interest by us all ... . Permit me to add my tes- 
timony to many others. 

" I have read a few pages of Miss Amanda T. Jones' new 
book 'A Psychic Autobiography'" (in type — pages 135 to 
141, inclusive) " and it is of great interest to me, being a 
great-grand-daughter of Nancy Hard, the old lady whose 
experience she relates of having been brought out of a ter- 
rible nightmare by her deceased husband. I have often 
heard my father and mother tell it in the same way: also 
a cousin of Mary Hard, and know the facts to be true. 
Lucy Hard was my mother's aunt" (also first wife of 
Newell Tolman, Cora's father), "and I have heard some 
of the things Miss Jones has told you about her. 

" I also remember how my people were persecuted for the 
experiences that came to them — and not of their seeking, — 
and who among you all who will read this book could bury 
one so dear, a loved daughter, sister, wife, till you knew 
it was death and not a trance as it had so often been." 

Despite some scruple, I cannot refrain from quoting the 
conclusion of this letter of Eugenia's daughter: " Now Sister 
Theo, you brought the tears to my eyes when 5 r ou spoke of 
my dear angel-mother; and I have a little surprise in store 



Appendix IV-V. 431 

for you. I am a little sensitive, about having many know, 
because I can do so little, but I think my daughter Vera (in 
the other world since 1902,) writes by my hand; and this 
morning she wrote: ' Mama, Grandma is here ' (my mother) 
' and wants to send her love to Theo.' " 

IV. (See page 145.) 

Nettie Higley Brown, Angola, N. Y., to Amanda T. 
Jones: May 22, 19 10. 

" My Dear, Dear Friend : It gives me pleasure to have 
you remember your pupil in such a kind way. Do you 
remember my father and myself singing : ' Kind thoughts 
can never die' so many times at our (Dr. Andrews') cir- 
cles? I can verify all in your manuscript;" (al- 
ready in type) " was present at the circles, except the first 
one, and have often heard mother tell of the hickory nut 
meats as given to her. The brother went from home when 
I was too young to remember much about him." 

V. (See page 158.) 

Extracts from letters of Linda Baldwin Smith, North 
Collins, N. Y., May 3rd, 1910. 

" My Dear Friend : I have never forgotten you although 
it has been so many years .... This fall my husband and 
myself will have lived together forty years. Victor died 
Oct. 2, 1906 You ask about Prof. Denton. I re- 
member him and his wife and sister. I don't remember 
much about that summer," (Linda was perhaps twelve or 
under at the time,) "but they spent a week or more and 
he examined the rocks and soil all around here. She 
said (his sister) that there was oil in this place but so 
deep they would not get it. They drilled for gas over 2,000 
feet, but did not find oil or any sign of it; so she hit that 
right. 

" I have a book of Mr. Denton's entitled : ' Poems for 
Reformers,' — one that he gave pa. 

" We live East of where we did when you were with us. 
There is a creek runs through our farm, ten to sixteen feet 
wide. We have always found a great many arrow heads 



432 Appendix V. 

along its banks. There is no waterfall on this creek that 
I know of. We have always thought there must have been 
an Indian battle here some time. 

" I remember the day you and Victor and I were together 
and he brought the arrow-head, perfectly; but I don't re- 
member it just as you do (no wonder after forty-five years!) 
I know you described the Indian girl on the bank, and the 
Indian lover or at least we thought he was that. But in- 
stead of an old Indian woman coming, I think you said 
another Indian came and was going to shoot the first one. 
Then you got so excited you had to see what it was that 
he" (Victor) "held to your forehead. After that I don't 
remember what you did say. I don't remember your speak- 
ing of traveling, still you may have done so. 

" I think Victor found it near the creek that runs through 
our farm. I don't know if I was with him or not. If my 
memory is not very distinct it is no wonder: my birthday 
is May 22 and I will be sixty years old." 

Linda is quite right in her statement that there was a 
shooting Indian described, although I omitted to mention 
him in my report (already in type), but she has him mis- 
placed. I saw him, I remember, on making that second ex- 
amination which the children urged upon me; but the 
memory of the Indian whom evidently, he had wounded, 
was predominant, because of the poignant emotion that 
seized me, as I watched the victim stealing warily through 
the dense wood with the blood welling from his side and his 
head turned to look over his right shoulder while his hand 
was pressed close to the fatal hurt. This vision was exceed- 
ingly vivid. I could not doubt that it represented an olden 
reality, from the intensity of its effect. 

Were Victor living, with his firmer grip, as I remember, 
on passing thoughts and events, I have no doubt he would 
substantiate my statements more definitely: although Linda 
does very well, in view of her immaturity at the time of 
the test, and, as she confesses, her not very tenacious memory 
at sixty years of age. 

I interpose, because of her recollection of one of Mrs. 
Anna Denton Cridge's Psychometric tests, one which I my- 
self, made later, at the house of Dr. Marvin in Jerusalem 



Appendix' VI. 433 

Corners, some ten or twelve miles East of the Baldwin farm. 
A lump of clay was handed me without comment. I saw 
that it had been taken from an old excavation made in a 
search for water; and seemed to go down through many 
strata finding nothing of value; till finally I said: " There is 
oil far below, but it can never be reached until there shall 
have been an earthquake. There will be an earthquake in 
about a year." As a matter of fact there was an earthquake 
just a year later; but the place had gone out of Dr. Marvin's 
hands, and there was never any attempt to search for pe- 
troleum in that vicinity, so far as I know. 

VI. (See page 166.) 

Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin and myself had, half an hour 
before this Psychometric reading, driven into the village of 
North Collins, very much a-chill and in great hurry to 
arrive at home. There he had stopped, passed the lines 
over to his wife, leaped out, run through an office-door and 
up a flight of stairs, I think he said, demanded of his geolog- 
ical friend a specimen at random, caught back the lines 
again and driven home in haste. Nor did he answer Mrs. 
Baldwin's query as to the reason of his act. No sooner were 
we huddled by the kitchen stove to comfort us with warmth, 
than he produced the fossil told about and handed it to me. 
He said : " I am in absolute ignorance concerning this. Be 
sure that nothing in my mind could influence yours." 

He might have added : " Nothing in the owner's mind 
could possibly have influenced my own." No less the owner 
might have said : " Nothing is known to me concerning it, 
but where I found it, what I did with it, and my conclusion 
that it once was part of some anatomy long since despoiled 
of flesh — anatomy beyond all possible guess." Mammoth, 
megatherium or big iguanadon — who could imagine which? 

The point is to detect telepathy (a deux, a trois, a mille 
or what you choose!). Also to locate hypnotism: or finally 
— these failing us — to guess the Spirit out, who in such haste 
whirled down the blue empyrean, caught up my silly soul 
and plunged with it through that supposed immitigable 
blackness of the past to make it glow again! 

Nay! does it ever cease to glow, if one has seeing eyes? 



434 Appendix VII. 

Please, spirits (for I also am a spirit) be not too officious, 
crowding in between : I wish to look myself. 

VII. (See page 170.) 

This test, made up of many readings of as unpromising a 
specimen as could well be imagined, being a composite from 
which Nature herself would seem to have been obliterated, 
is the only one, save that of the china cup shard, which 
was ever committed to writing within forty-four years of 
the attempted Psychometric decipherment. 

The sealed envelope which I inclosed in a letter to Mr. 
Bryant, who had sent me the bit of brick (about the breadth 
of my thumb-nail) was quite bulky. There were several 
sheets of very fine writing in which I had recorded (with a 
few chance omissions of perceptions not much regarded then 
but now seen to be of value) many impressions and fleeting 
views — some of them partly repetitive but not one an exact 
re-production of any other. 

I am free to confess that each time I essayed a fresh trial 
considerable mental confusion ensued, because of what seemed 
inconsistencies, incongruities and even absurdities which I 
was unable to reconcile with reason or common-sense. Like 
John Bunyan I was much " tumbled up and down in my 
mind," and but for the fact that honor was pledged, my rec- 
ords would never have been sent, through Mr. Bryant, 
for reading before " The Nameless Club." 

The fact cannot be too strongly insisted upon that neither 
I, nor any one of the gentlemen who had asked for the test, 
except Mr. Bryant himself, had the slightest knowledge of 
the character of the specimen. There was no conference, 
nor opportunity for conference among the Nameless mem- 
bers. The specimen reached me by special messenger from 
Mr. Bryant on the morning after the pleasant evening's 
visit I have noted, when Mr. Larned first challenged me to 
the trial. Mr. Bryant had picked up and pocketed the speci- 
men, as a memento of his wedding journey — of which I knew 
nothing whatever, being out, as usual, among the farmers 
where I preferred to reside rather than in my own city home. 
He informed me by letter, that he had immediately taken 
great pains to get historical information, supplementing the 



Appendix VII. 435 

little he actually knew, a good deal of which he copied out 
for me. I do not know what his sources of information 
were, and in several instances, have no means of con-« 
firming his statements. I may say that he did not inform 
me that any part of my record, had been shown to be incor- 
rect. It seems that at a later time he found something which 
according to my interpretation or rather inference, could not 
have been true. The reader will have an opportunity to 
decide upon that point. 

A spontaneous suggestion, received after I had delivered 
my manuscript for publication (I have changed but one 
syllable in the proof-reading — two letters only in place of 
three) put me in the way of recovering a single sheet out of 
several which summed up my experiences with this specimen. 

Mr. James Nicoll Johnston, a member of the Nameless 
club from its organization to its dissolution — not at all given 
to Psychical Research so called, but a prominent and honored 
Literateur, author of " Poets and Poetry of Buffalo," and 
a rare book of verse entitled " Donegal Memories," men- 
tioned casually, in a letter, a memory of his that he thought 
might be of interest. I quote: 

" Mr. Bryant once read me a letter you wrote him after 
he had returned from his wedding journey. He had sent 
you, to test your Psychometry, a small bit of material that 
he had broken off one of the old English bricks of a Fort 
near Lake George. The letter said you saw water, whether 
salt or fresh, you could not say. You saw soldiers parading 
near a Fort, etc., etc., etc. — quite a lengthy description, and 
he told me only in one item were you in error! 1 suppose 
his son, William L. Bryant, now with the Buffalo Society 
of Natural Sciences, would know if the letter was pre- 
served." 

Without giving Mr. Johnston any hints as to the trend 
of my record, I asked him to try and recall as much as pos- 
sible of what had been read to him, and stated that I had 
received from Wm. L. Bryant a single sheet only, out of 
several, which did not cover the examinations — leaving more 
to be desired. He replied (April 27, 1910) : 

" In the summer of Mr. Bryant's marriage when he made 
the trip to Lake George, etc., I was in the West. On my 



436 Appendix VII. 

return he referred to his experiment with the crumb of brick 
sent you and the result. We had talked about Psychometry 
and gave it some attention. All that I remember — for I 
did not read the letter — is: you wrote to him something 
like this : ' I see a body of water, whether salt or fresh I 
cannot determine. I see craft at anchor and a fort with 
soldiers marching.' I cannot write more for my memory 
is not sure of the rest. But this he did say : ' There was 
only one incorrect statement in the letter,' It is a pity the 
original letter and letters could not have been preserved." 

And, writing again, Mr. Johnston says: "With regard 
to your Psychometic letter to Mr. Bryant (it must have 
been forty years ago;)" (forty-five). "Last week, mentioning 
the matter to a clear-headed friend of mine the friend said: 
' Easy enough ! Mr. Bryant most likely wrote from Lake 
George, and may or may not have referred to the fort from 
which the particle of brick came.' That was never my im- 
pression, nor did Mr. Bryant convey that impression to me." 

Oh, these cock-sure philosophers! — This gentleman, pre- 
sumably, carried a euchre deck in his pocket, for the handy 
solving of all Psychic phenomena! 

I herewith introduce the contents of a very finely written 
sheet of note-paper upon which I recorded in 1865 the re- 
sult of the first two trials of the said specimen-brick from 
the ruins of Fort William Henry on Lake George, with the 
note received from William L. Bryant, which accompanied 
its transmission to me as a loan, and part of another, which 
preceded it. This reached me April 16, last, after I had 
read and returned to the publishing house, the corrected 
proof of that entire chapter which gives my version of the 
experience, written wholly from memory. 

" Buffalo, New York, March 14, 19 10. Dear Madam: 
Your letter was forwarded to me in Florida, where I was 
on my vacation, and hence the delay in answering. I note 
what you say concerning a letter written to my father many 
years ago about the Fort William Henry fragment, and I 
recollect having seen the letter among my father's old cor- 
respondence, which I have in my possession bound into 
books. I will be pleased to make a copy of the letter as 



Appendix VII. 437 

soon as I possibly can attend to it Very truly yours, 

William L. Bryant." 

" Buffalo, New York, April 14, 19 10. Dear Madam: I 
was out of town when your last letter came, and inasmuch 
as you are in a hurry for the letter I have taken it out of 
the file and mail it to you herewith. You might send it 
back when you are through with it. There may be another 
letter, but as yet I am unable to find it. Yours very truly, 
William L. Bryant." 

"FRAGMENT OF BRICK, PSYCHOMETRICALLY 
EXAMINED. 

First Examination: " I am by a body of water, too smooth, 
I should think for the open sea — and as I look over it I see 
a strip of land dividing it, which leads me to imagine it 
perhaps a bay or inlet from the ocean — possibly a large lake. 
Very near the beach is a large building, I think with a flat 
roof. The building is of brick but this specimen does not 
seem a part of it. One side has a round wall which closes 
against a straight one. The building looks toward the sea 
or water. A sort of sloop approaches — moving slowly but 
very inconsistently near to land. There is a feeling of ex- 
citement along the beach. I get the idea of a place some- 
times made a bathing resort. I see persons now and then. 
One young lady stands in a fixed way, gazing out over the 
water. She is lovely. Her hair is golden brown and her 
attitude very graceful. There is a stiff breeze blowing, 
which has flung her light cloak back from her shoulders. 
She seems wholly absorbed in thought." 

Second Examination: "A huge building, either in or 
extremely near the sea or water. At least one side is 
washed by it. I cannot see the whole. 

" At a distance I seem to see an elevation crowded with 
people. I should suppose that near here is a light-house 
built of white material — probably limestone. It seems very 
near or on the land. There seems a point of land beyond 
it, over which I see white birds flying. 

" This huge building I spoke of is round or at least has 
rounded corners. I have turned the specimen over on my 



438 Appendix VII. 

forehead and now seem to see within the building. Men 
are inside, moving rapidly. It is not as large within as I 
should judge it to be looking from without. 

" There is a bright flame now within. I should say that 
there is a dismounted cannon and one man seems to be 
stooping a little to sight another for firing. Another man 
seems half-reclining — may have fallen. A man in very 
light clothes is moving very actively. Seems somehow like 
a foreigner. 

" It is very light now within this building or fortification. 
I have been trying to get out of the building by ascending; 
cannot do it; there would seem to be a heavy bomb-proof 
roof. I turn the specimen over again — and now seem out- 
side. The roof seems flat. I saw, just now, an angle and 
down one side a little. 

" I see scattering houses. Should judge them to be in a 
Southerly direction from where I seem to be. West of (that 
or them or here — three words given in uncertainty and 
crossed out) the houses are closer together. I judge that 
to be a city. 

"I see a fragment of a fallen pillar, but it is not round ; 
it is of stone and square. There are a great many frag- 
ments of something here — rocks probably. A loose mass of 
ruins, I guess they are, on which lies a sort of frame-work 
of wood, old and broken. 

" Now these walls look broken — blackened — and seem 
like two walls built perhaps a few feet apart, the hollow 
being filled with gravel, sand and bits of broken stone. 

" Some distance away, but I have not the locality clear, 
is a large, unlaunched vessel. It is probably not completed 
but there are no workmen on it. It looks deserted. 

" Just here there slides in an odd-looking and weather- 
beaten craft and somehow begins to be disgorged of pas- 
sengers. They come out eagerly, but very gravely and as 
many leave the ship at once as possible 

" But it looks absurd for they seem not to enter small 
boats, but to move right on, either passing to another vessel 
or walking directly on to a wharf, or perigrinating the air 
I really cannot tell which. But there are two or three 
women among them, one at least who is very queenly, and 



Appendix VII. 4319 

from the movement of the upper part of her body which is 
all I see, must either be on horseback or carried somehow 
by those men who seem to surround her. All this has an 
ancient look and don't seem to belong to the present day. 

" Now the day seems dark and the atmosphere heavy, 
perhaps with smoke. A man is on the walls trailing a flag. 
It seems to have very wide stripes, but they are not as bright- 
colored as I should suppose they would be. I cannot see 
it distinctly. He looks off across the water. There is a 
vessel with sails and a pipe. I should think another dark 
body that I see there must be an iron-clad; its sides slope 
outward toward the water. There are no men visible on 
it; nor are there many visible in this building or near it. 
Now and then I see a few who hug the inside walls very 
closely. 

" I see down in the water. There are large broken rocks 
there; they obstruct navigation but there is a way of thread- 
ing through them. 

" Now it seems to be night, but there are occasional flashes 
of clear light (not colored much if any) which shows that 
city or town. If those which I see are projectiles I should 
think the light accompanies them, but is not made by them; 
at all events I only see them when the light shines. Yet 
everything seems silent and quiet over toward the city. 

" Down at the foot of this huge building or fort now I 
see ten or twelve men issuing without conversation and en- 
tering a couple of boats. 

" Another boat follows containing but one man. One of 
those men and only one seemed to have on the blue of 
Federal clothes — a perfectly new suit, and he is a very fine 
looking fellow, and he shall be the last in sight, so he'll 
be the longer remembered." 

Now let it be noted that I kept aloof from all others, 
while making these tests up to this point, so that nothing 
should interfere with my visioning. I had therefore no as- 
sistance in reporting them, and now and then in my hur- 
riedly jotted notes let something slip without writing, which 
nevertheless I held in memory and continue to hold — for as 
I have said Psychic impressions cannot be wholly effaced. 
For example, I did not make a note of the pleasure-boat 



440 Appendix VII. 

toward which the lovely (and fashionably dressed) young 
lady, seemed looking as in deep revery, yet it was the 
boat and the elegance of her appearance which suggested 
the idea of a bathing resort, together with the wonderful 
clearness of the water, concerning which I made no comment 
but never lost the remembrance of its exceeding purity. 

" The man in very light clothes" appeared again, just 
before I was seized with that unconquerable terror. I had 
imagined him to be a Hollander from the make of his blouse ; 
but with my second view of him, all my faculties centered 
themselves upon him and I was amazed at the fighting 
quality of the man. This time I fully recognized the suit 
ol corduroy, for I had seen the like among some English 
neighbors ; and I concluded that he was an Englishman, 
though that would not be a conclusive reason for thinking 
so. Corduroy was common wear among peasantry. 

"A huge building:" In fact, Fort William Henry, the 
foundation-walls of which were of brick — two walls separ- 
ated by some feet, the space between being filled in exactly 
as I have described. It was intended, with its entrenchments 
to harbor and shield four or five thousand soldiers besides 
many civilians, both men and women. A few days ago I 
asked a gentleman who remarked that he had visited Lake 
George: "Would you say the old fortifications had been 
huge?" "I should say so!" he answered emphatically: 
" they covered several acres." 

It is on record among the histories I have glanced over 
lately, though I cannot say which one, that upon these foun- 
dation walls were piled trunks of great trees to increase the 
height and at least a portion of the roof which I imagined 
to be " bomb-proof," was so covered. 

The supposed, or, as I thought, dimly outlined light- 
house on or close to the land, I have not verified. This, 
however, given in the same connection, cannot be disputed: 
" There runs a point of land beyond it, over which I see 
white birds flying" An examination of the map shows 
what, at the very first, I called " a strip of land " dividing 
the Lake; and sea-gulls haunt the shores of waters and 
rivers still further inland than Lake George. 

In view of the fact that hundreds of craft, bateaux (very 



Appendix VII. 441 

long, flat-bottomed boats) with whale-boats and real sea- 
going ships frequented the waters of Lake George (which 
are centrally deep, but shallow and obstructive on either 
hand) one would suppose a small white light-house neces- 
sary. Supposition, however, is not substantiation. 

" The huge building " was not as large " within " as it 
seemed to be " without." Naturally the inside diameter 
would be much less than that of the outside, being circum- 
scribed by the inner walls. 

" There is a bright flame within." Parkman, in the second 
volume of his history of " Montcalm and Wolfe/"' states 
that Rigaud, making an attack on the night of March 1 8th, 
1757, "withdrew at daybreak after vainly trying to burn 
trie building outside. Came again in the night, fired two 
sloops ice-bound in the Lake, and a large number of bateaux. 
They were all consumed." 

" Next night he attacked not the Fort but the buildings 
outside — several store-houses, a hospital, a saw-mill, and the 
huts of the rangers, besides a sloop on the stocks and piles 
of plank and cordwood." " These were fired with resinous 
sticks. Before morning all was in a blaze and they had 
much ado to save the Fort barracks from the shower of 
burning cinders. 

" Before dawn on Tuesday morning twenty volunteers 
mad a bold attempt to burn the sloop on the stocks, with 
several store houses and other structures, and several hun- 
dred scows and whale-boats, which had thus far escaped. 
They were only in part successful, but they fired the sloop 
and some buildings near it and stood out far on the ice 
to watch the flaming vessel." 

"A dismounted cannon and one man stooping a little to 
sight another for firing." 

Parkman says: "Seventeen cannon, great and small, be- 
sides several mortars and swivels were mounted upon it. 
There were six more guns in the intrenched camp. The 
force manning the Fort during these contests, was 2,200. In 
the rear of the intrenched camp was a breastwork of stones 
and logs. Eight hundred French toiled till daylight to get 
through the profusion of half-burned stumps and fallen 
trunks, while cannon from the Fort flashed through the 



442 Appendix VII. 

darkness and grape and round shot screamed above their 
heads. In firing at the Fort splinters flew from the wooden 
rampart." 

" On the night of the 7th of August more than three 
hundred in the Fort had been killed and wounded. All 
their large cannon and mortars had been burst or disabled 
by shot. Only seven small pieces were left fit for service. 
Through the night of the 8th they fired briskly all their 
remaining pieces." 

Another authority ( Sloane, in his " French War and the 
Revolution ") states that " the ice-bound boats in the Lake, 
a sloop of war on the stocks, with the out-houses and barns 
around the fortress, were burned." My " deserted and un- 
finished vessel," was decidedly a marked feature, during the 
conflict. He adds that " the cannon burst and were use- 
less." I am inclined to think that my almost preternatur- 
ally active gunner fired the final shot. 

" A man is on the walls trailing a flag." The description 
of the flag would answer for the Union Jack — England's 
military ensign — its colors dulled by long use. 

" Scattering houses in a Southerly direction. West, the 
houses are closer together.. I judge that to be a city." 
Within a circuit of thirty miles, more or less, were several 
fortified points and not inconsiderable villages, as Saratoga, 
Troy, Albany, Johnstown, Schenectady, etc. : but the city 
idea, which recurred again and again, seems incongruous. 
New York was nearly two hundred miles to the South; but 
Albany, quite near, could easily have been characterized as a 
city. I think an old geographer of about those days, tells 
of five thousand houses and twenty thousand inhabitants all 

standing Well every one has heard of the blunder 

that set the little world laughing! You may hear the echo 
even yet. 

I remember that the persistent idea of a city which I 
could not locate baffled me, as did a sense of the sea, even 
after I had perceived that the body of water was a lake. 
Let it be noted, however, that the brick had a history of 
its own, previous to being built into the foundations of this 
fort. Mr. Bryant, greatly struck by the statement that it 
had crossed the ocean, took much pains to inform himself, 



Appendix VII. 443 

and wrote to me that he had found out that no bricks had 
been made in America up to that date, but all had been 
brought from Holland to New York City, and distributed 
from that center. I have just been informed that the bricks 
were thrown in as ballast — the returning ships carrying 
cargoes in their place. The house of the old Patroon, Wil- 
liam Van Rensselaer, was built of them about 1620. Ob- 
serve also that " Albany was a storehouse for the munitions 
of war during the French and Indian wars, a rendezvous 
for the troops and a place of safety for refugees and wounded 
soldiers." That very fragment of brick, on its way up the 
Hudson passed through or may have been stored there, till 
sent on to Fort Edward at the call of Johnson, who, as 
Sloane says, " built a new and useless fort " at the head of 
Lake George. But Holland's great city and the metrop- 
olis of New York, may have stamped their influence first 
upon the specimen. One does not see in the exact order of 
time. 

The sea? — well, its influence might well be felt stealing 
in along the St. Lawrence and up Lake Champlain into 
Lake George. I could not get rid of the sea. 

It remains to account for the one supposed " incorrect 
statement," if that may be done, viz.: 

" A dark body that I should think was an iron-clad.. .Its 
sides slope outward toward the water.. .There are no men 
visible on it." It has seemed to me that all objects — par- 
ticles of matter — infinitesimal atoms, if you like — borrow or 
appropriate dynamic force to a greater or less degree, accord- 
ing to the happenings which contribute kinetic energy to 
the universal sum of things. And this " dark body " may 
have taken on a significance which vaguely impelled my 
answering thoughts toward tragic events. 

However that may be, here is Francis Parkman's author- 
ity for something that may acccount for my vision: (" Mont- 
calm & Wolfe," 2nd volume, page 181). 

"About ten o'clock at night two boats set out from the 
Fort to reconnoitre. They were passing a point of land on 
their left (East) two miles or more down the lake" (this 
seems to have been the " strip of land dividing it " which 
I called, on seeing it the second time, " a point of land be- 



444 Appendix VII. 

yond"), "when the men on board descried through the 
gloom a strange object against the bank; and they moved 
toward it to learn what it might be. 

" It was an awning over the bateaux that carried Roubard 
and his brother missionaries." This awning, stretched from 
above and slanting outward over the edge of the long flat- 
bottomed boat, to conceal whoever w T as thereon, fairly illus- 
trates what I dimly perceived and foolishly attempted to 
account for. 

The story goes on : "As the rash oarsmen drew near, the 
bleating of a sheep in one of the French provision-boats 
warned them of danger; and turning they pulled for their 
lives for the Eastern shore. Instantly more than a thousand 
Indians threw themselves into their canoes and dashed in 
hot pursuit, making the lakes and mountains ring with the 
din of their war-whoops. 

" The fugitives had already reached land when their 
pursuers opened fire. They replied, shot one Indian and 
wounded another, then snatched their oars again and gained 
the beach. But the whole savage crew was upon them. 
Several were killed; these were taken; the rest escaped into 
the dark woods." 

Verily these were tragic results to follow the midnight 
recognition of a " strange object " draped to lose resemblance 
to a common boat! — a fateful object as it proved, well 
worthy to be seen by Psychometric eyes — if so indeed they 
saw! 

I have no idea where Mr. Bryant got his authority; but 
he wrote that it was matter of record how a French Mar- 
quis was visited by his wife, after Lake George was in French 
possession. If it were Montcalm or another (for there were 
two or three) my friend seems not to have learned. But we 
know from Montcalm's letters that he, at least, was very 
gallant and often made his plans subservient to the desires 
of the ladies resident in the upper forts, whom he entertained 
in many ways. His wife he ardently desired to see. She 
may have come; and in that case would have been richly 
clad in brocade as was the uplifted lady whom I saw carried 
on shore (as I concluded after some confusion which was 



Appendix VIII. 445 

followed by clearer vision,) in a chair upon the shoulders 
of men, honored as a queen. 

I deeply regret that the conclusion of my report, showing 
the intense and unbearable horror which overcame me, has 
not been preserved. I knew so little of history, that even 
had I known that the specimen had been picked up on the 
historic site of Fort William Henry, nothing of the im- 
mense tragedy there enacted, the killing of the sick and 
wounded left in the Fort upon its evacuation, with one 
hundred women murdered and scalped, could possibly have 
induced my terror save by Psychic means. / did not know 
that there had ever been a massacre by Lake George. 

History had been my bete noir. 

But it was well worth while to have made the test, if 
only to have seen and recognized majestic George Wash- 
ington riding in with his body-guard, to view the desolate 
ruins of William Johnson's ill-advised and costly Fortifica- 
tion, named for England's Prince. 

VIII. (See page 184.) 

Extract from letter of Mrs. Leroy G. Bundy (Cordelia 
Dingman) : Evans Center, N. Y., May 22nd, 1910. 

" Dear Friend .... Roy and I were married sooner than 
we intended because Mother Bundy wanted I should go to 
Canada and have Dr. Dick's treatment. Then when we 
were married she wanted Dr. Marvin to examine my lungs; 
he said there was nothing serious about them. Then came 
Mark Tousey and his wife, both mediums. He prescribed 
a course of treatment. Roy was dissatisfied with him so 
wrote to Dr. Dick. He came to our house and gave me an 
examination; said he could make a well woman of me (I 
never went to his house to be treated) if Mother would 
follow his directions. She started with a vapor-bath, then 
immediately after that I had to be rubbed with capsicum 
and lard to stimulate the skin, — I have forgotten the pro- 
portions. He gave me an alterative for my blood and a 
cough syrup. I took several bottles of each. He said it 
was not necessary for me to be at his house, so I never saw 
their Canada home; but after I was well Roy and I visited 
them in Lockport, where they moved. 



446 Appendix IX-X. 

" Mother used to tell about your sitting and how sat- 
isfactory it was; and I remember her speaking of Dr. An- 
drews, but it was so long ago I have forgotten nearly all 
about it. 

" I had three brothers die with lung and heart trouble 
and one had dropsy with the other troubles. I have never 
had any trouble with my lungs since and I use myself to all 
kinds of weather. Scarce ever catch cold. 

" I think your description of the way Dr. Dick treated 
his patients was correct; but you see he left Mother with 
my case. I could believe he made you feel like a well 
woman and I can think of the torment I was in after taking 
his bath, and the pepper and lard, — for he forgot to tell 
mother to use sweet milk to kill the burning if the pepper 
was too hot. He did not return for two weeks, and what I 
suffered in that time from the red pepper cannot be expressed 
by common language! " 

Poor Dr. Dick! He didn't "wish to cruelize " ! 

IX. (See page 187.) 

Extract from letter of Nettie Higley Brown, Angola, 
N. Y., May 21, 1910. 

" The most of the story of Dr. Andrews' boyhood days 
I remember his relating; especially his mother appearing to 
him, telling where to go. Of course it was interesting to 
a girl. 

"And a slight remembrance of Mrs. Manley's trouble 
'(Mrs. Bundy's coming and getting a test, &c.) This 
must have occurred in the Summer of '66. 

" I well remember the at-home evenings we used to 
enjoy so much — when Dr. Andrews voiced through you many 
lectures and gave numbers of tests in a masculine voice and 
answered questions to our great satisfaction. 

" I have often wondered whether he still came to you. 
Your loving friend: Nettie Higley Brown." 

X. (See page 193.) 

From Nettie Brown: concerning the lovely woman here 
described : " Dear old Auntie Otis had a heavy burden. 



Appendix XI-XII-XIII-XIV. 447 

Her last days were better. Her husband regained his mind 
and was a man among men." 

XI. (See page 197.) 

From Nettie Brown : " I remember the story as told of 
Mrs. Brownell and the death of her bright son Millard. 
They were our neighbors." 

XII. (See page 199.) 

From Nettie Brown : " I do not especially remember the 
number of the Hawley and Clough party. I do remember 
the stranger and his wife got wonderful tests through you 
by Dr. Andrews. This must have been in the year of '66, 
in the Fall; for I think the weather was cool." 

XIII. (See page 209.) 

From Nettie Brown: "I remember our little circle of 
four women. Dr. Andrews describing Levi Brown's father 
as convalescent. Do you remember how interested I always 
was in the color of our circles? " (odylic force) ; " as it was 
different every time — color interpretation of the wishes of 
those present (as green — signifying we were all growing?)" 

XIV. ^See page 246.) 

From Nettie Brown : " Mrs. Huntington went to Clifton 
Springs by Dr. Andrews' advice; and the sale of the strip 
of land I surely ought to remember, for we, the Browns, 
cared for the little girl Phoebe while the mother was away 
and helped to get Mrs. Huntington ready for the trip. 

" I recall a time when my father was rubbing your head. 
His Indian control took possession of you and impersonated 
by queer antics." 

Since this is Nettie's reminiscence I confirm her by stating 
that for the first and only time, then and on the following 
evening, I was influenced by a veritable Indian. His " queer 
antics " were pantomimes that I almost understood as did 
the witnesses, without interpretation, which however was 
forth-coming from Dr. Andrews. He talked what seemed 
an Indian language, but by significant gestures and behavior 
put us in possession of this story: 



448 Appendix XV. 

The tribe was without food. Deer had disappeared; 
starvation was at hand. Then he, the tall Indian, took 
his bow and arrows and roamed night and day. He moved 
with cat-like caution, but imitated the noises of the wood. 
Particularly he gave frequent utterance to hollow, blood- 
curdling howls of which I had never heard the like, but 
which the Higley family, who had lived near heavy woods 
in Michigan, instantly recognized as the cry of wolves. But 
at last a deer was slain, was shouldered and taken to the 
famishing tribe. He was received with rejoicing, a fire 
was built for roasting, all the children were made to sit 
close around on the ground: back of them waited the 
squaws, and outside of them the men stood overlooking all. 
As fast as slices were cut from the tender meat, they were 
handed around, one to each child first, then larger pieces 
to all the squaws — the braves being fed last. 

On the second evening there was a pantomine enacted 
with great energy, which showed us the manner of his death. 
He had perished in a prairie fire. I think any actor who 
could so picture such a death, would bring the greatest 
audience to its feet. I could not have imagined an influ- 
ence so vehement yet so gentle withal, so terrific in meaning, 
so swift — incredibly swift — in movement, yet so free from 
over-action and exaggeration of effect. Since then I have 
understood Indian nature better than I had ever done before, 
even by the aid of " Psychometry and Spirit-Influence." 

XV. (Seepage 347.) 

By inadvertence I have seemed to carry the idea here, that 
there was only a cordial greeting. There was also, in fact, 
a call for such legal documents as would plainly show the 
status of affairs between Mrs. Collins and Mr. Eighmie and 
a pronounced opinion as to the higher equities involved. 
Mr. Eighmie was prepared by the spirit's arguments for 
what was to follow, viz. : A waiving of his undoubted 
rights as money-lender in order to give Mrs. Collins and her 
heirs every possible opportunity to get pecuniary value out 
of the Yuh Heh Springs. As the case was made clear I was 
amazed to learn the extent of those rights, and could but 
feel that Judge Evelyn was proposing to him extraordinary 



Appendix XVI. 449 

concessions, in the interests of the woman who had been 
the outward originator of the work in which they had 
joined. 

XVI. (See page 348.) 

Here again, my memory as I wrote, did not gather up 
all the facts. (They were not Psychic facts!) In view of 
the complicated affairs between the two friends (they were 
never enemies) Mr. Townsend thought that the contract 
prepared by Judge Evelyn should have a preamble setting 
them cleai«iy forth, and that said preamble should be made 
part of the entire contract. To this both parties consented, 
and several hours passed before the spirit-document so pref- 
aced, but faithfully transcribed, word by word, as to its orig- 
inal form, could be signed in duplicate. 

It has been my supposition that the paper so prepared 
by Judge Evelyn, must have been retained by Mrs. Collins, 
and her daughter and son-in-law have been searching for it 
among her papers. But four days ago I received a visit from 
Mr. Benjamin F. Carpenter, of 65 Orchard St., Summit, 
N. J. — one of the Eighmie executors — whose wife, the oldest 
daughter of Mr. Eighmie, has a two-thirds interest in the 
Yuh Heh Springs, the other third being held by her younger 
sister, Mrs. Barber. He states that the document in ques- 
tion was kept by Mr. Eighmie and that he has seen and 
read it himself. He calls it " An Agreement between Mrs. 
Collins, Mr. Eighmie and the spirit-world," — which it vir- 
tually was. I have much desired its recovery from oblivion, 
as showing the peculiar character of the (so-called) automatic 
writing — a round script unlike our modern style of chirog- 
raphy. It appears, however, that Mr. Eighmie's safe proved 
far too small to contain the great mass of his papers (for 
he was a man of many affairs) and his widow attempted 
to reduce them by assorting out and burning those no longer 
effective in the way of business. After her demise one of 
the daughters plunged still deeper into the work and de- 
stroyed many more. Mr. Carpenter thinks this one without 
intention shared in the holocaust, as he no longer sees it 
among those remaining. 

I am therefore able to do no better than this: I divest 



450 Appendix XVI. 

the signed agreement prepared by John D. Townsend of its 
preamble and its interpolated eleventh clause, viz. : " It is fur- 
ther understood between the parties that the preamble to 
this contract shall be considered a part thereof," and 
present exactly what was prepared for their signature by 
that one (and no other) who had taught us to call him 
Judge Evelyn. 

It seems necessary to say that Mr. Townsend was some- 
what puzzled as to the object and intent of the five hundred 
dollar " promissory note." Mr. Eighmie joined with me in 
explaining that the spirit had said there should be allowed 
him on final accounting, not only the nine thousand nine hun- 
dred dollars secured by mortgage upon the Barre property, 
but the full legal interest thereupon, " with a little usury." 
And that he had represented this promised usury by an appar- 
ent bonus of five hundred dollars to be paid at the end of 
eight years. 

Mr. Townsend declared that had it appeared as an actual 
increase of interest above the legal rate, the entire contract 
would have been invalidate. The arrangement he pronounced 
unassailable and added : " This alone proves the author of 
the writing a Master of Law." 

I am entitled to state that this was the first document 
prepared under the formalities of law — with the single ex- 
ception of a short contract with Hurd and Houghton, pub- 
lishers — that ever came under my notice. When I reflect 
upon the utter blankness of my mind to such literature, my 
total lack of acquaintance with legal technicalities and phrase- 
ology and my physical and mental disability to cope with 
problems of business equity, I am compelled to say with the 
utmost emphasis: 

" It was not I, it was another; " — ■ 

and to pronounce that other a veritable inhabitant of the ver- 
itable spirit-world, which mere mortal sight has never yet 
beheld. 

Here then is the wise and benignant document written by 
my hand, under the influence of a disembodied spirit, Feb. 
23rd, 1873. 



Appendix XVI. 451 

This agreement, entered into this day of February, 

1873, between Jeremiah Eighmie of the village of Roselle, 
in Union County, New Jersey, party of the first part and 
Sarah A. Collins of the Town of Barre, County of Orleans, 
and State of New York of the second part — 

Witnesseth ■ 

First. The party of the first part, in consideration of a 
promissory note made this day by the said party of the 
second part for the sum of five hundred dollars, payable to 
his order in eight years from the date of this contract, the 
receipt of which promissory note is hereby acknowledged, 
and in consideration of other matters herein-after set forth, 
hereby releases and relieves the party of the second part, 
as well as the premises and real estate set forth and described 
in a certain mortgage made and delivered to him by the 
party of the second part on the 7th day of February, 1872, 
and recorded in the Clerk's office of the County of Orleans 
on the 9th day of February, 1872, in Liber 50 of mortgages 
at page 272, from any and all lien or charge upon such 
premises or upon the party of the second part arising upon 
or growing out of a certain other and prior mortgage made 
and delivered by the party of the second part to him on the 

day of 18 and which is recorded in the 

Clerk's office of the County of Orleans, State of New York. 
And the party of the first part, in consideration of the said 
note of five hundred dollars, aforesaid, and the considera- 
tions herein-after set forth and promised by the party of 
the second part, hereby further agrees and binds himself, his 
heirs and assigns to the said party of the second part to hold 
her harmless against any and every lien, claim or demand 
whatever which may at any time arise or grow out of the 
prior mortgage made by her and heretofore referred to as 
affecting her rights as herein granted by the party of the 
first part. 

Second. And in consideration of the aforesaid promissory 
note of five hundred dollars and the considerations herein- 
after set forth and agreed to by the party of the second part, 
and being further moved thereto by charitable dealing to 
aid the party of the second part in her philanthropic efforts, 
the party of the first part hereby releases and relieves the 



452 Appendix XVI. 

party of the second part for the term of five years, from 
the payment to him, his heirs or assigns of any interest to 
become due upon the sum of money secured to the party 
of the first part by the mortgage executed and delivered to 
him by the party of the second part on the 7th day of Feb- 
ruary, 1872, and which is herein-after referred to as being 
recorded in Liber 50 of mortgages at page 272 in the Clerk's 
office of Orleans County, and the party of the first part 
hereby relieves the party of the second part from all payment 
of any interest whatever on the money so secured to him by 
said mortgage so recorded on the 9th day of February, 1872, 
as aforesaid until and after the expiration of five years from 
the date of this Contract; but thereafter the interest now 
due and to become due from the date of this Contract upon 
the sum of nine thousand nine hundred dollars, secured by 
said mortgage so recorded as aforesaid on the 9th day of 
February, 1872, shall be paid by the party of the second part 
within three years after the expiration of the five years afore- 
said, and shall be paid out of one half of the net profits 
accruing to the said party of the second part out of the 
sale of mineral waters and the profits arising out of the 
treatment of patients at the " Yuh Heh House," in annual 
payment, to wit, on the first day of February of each and 
every year, and that in case one half of such net profits shall 
be more than sufficient to pay the interest accruing upon said 
sum of nine thousand nine hundred dollars so secured as 
aforesaid by mortgage during said three years, then the 
balance of such half share of net profits accruing as afore- 
said to the party of the second part shall go toward the pay- 
ment of the principal, to wit, the payment of the said nine 
thousand nine hundred dollars. 

Third. And the party of the second part in considera- 
tion of the release to her by the party of the first part of 
all claim, lien and demand upon the premises and real estate 
set forth and described in a certain mortgage made and de- 
livered by her to the party of the first part on the 7th day of 
February, 1872, and hereinbefore referred to and more 
particularly described, arising or growing out of a certain 
other and prior mortgage made and delivered to the party 
of the first part by her for the security of monies loaned 



Appendix XVI. 453 

to her by the party of the first part amounting to seventeen 
thousand and forty dollars: and in further consideration for 
the extension of time given to her by the party of the first 
part in the manner hereinbefore stated, in which to pay the 
interest upon the sum of money, to wit, nine thousand nine 
hundred dollars secured by her to the party of the first part 
by the mortgage herein before referred to, and executed 
and delivered on the 7th day of February, 1872, the party 
of the second part hereby agrees to make and deliver to the 
party of the first part before the execution of this contract 
her promissory note for five hundred dollars payable to the 
order of the party of the first part in eight years from the 
date of this contract. 

Fourth. In further consideration the party of the second 
part agrees to take charge of the spring and the house known 
as the " Yuh Heh House " and the premises so described 
in said mortgage executed by her and delivered to the party 
of the first part on the 7th of February, 1872, and to 
make every effort to bring the waters from said spring into 
the market and bring them before the public in order that 
their medicinal properties may be more fully known and 
considered, and she further agrees to do all that lies in her 
power to make the waters from such spring and the " Yuh 
Heh House " as remunerative as possible. 

Fifth. As further consideration for the above premises 
the party of the second part agrees to pay to the party of 
the first part after the expiration of five years from the date 
of this contract and within three years from the expiration 
of such term, out of one half of her net profits arising from 
the sale of the spring water aforesaid and the care and charge 
of the " Yuh Heh House," aforesaid, in yearly payments, 
to wit, on the first of February of each of said years all the 
interest now due and accruing from the date of this contract 
upon the sum of nine thousand nine hundred dollars to the 
party of the first part by the mortgage hereinbefore referred 
to and executed the 7th day of February, 1872. And in 
case that during such time of three years the amount of the 
one half net profits accruing to the party of the second part 
shall be more than sufficient to pay the interest on the said 
sum of nine thousand nine hundred dollars aforesaid then 



454 Appendix XVI. 

the party of the second part agrees to devote the balance 
thereof to the payment of the principal. 

Sixth. And the party of the second part further agrees 
as part of the conditions imposed upon her under this con- 
tract during the five years immediately succeeding the date 
of this agreement to have suitable pipes laid from the spring 
before mentioned to the said " Yuh Heh House " or to the 
baths connected therewith and to make such further im- 
provements as she may deem wise and necessary. 

Seventh. Immediately after the expiration of the present 
insurance policy, now upon the said " Yuh Heh House," 
the party of the second part agrees to have the said house 
again insured in a good company at as high an amount as 
can be obtained and to assign said policy to the party of the 
first part as a part security for the fulfilment of the terms 
of this agreement. 

Eighth. The party of the second part also agrees as a 
part of the consideration upon her part, that the party of 
the first part shall have full right to the waters from said 
spring for the use of himself or his family or to use in 
charity when charities are needed, provided he pays all 
expenses necessary to the supply and transportation. And 
the party of the second part further agrees that the party 
of the first part shall have the right to sell said waters pro- 
vided he does not dispose of them in the vicinity of the 
Spring, and after deducting all expenses incurred in such 
sales he shall be entitled to retain for his services in thus 
selling the waters one half of the profits arising therefrom. 
And the party of the second part further agrees that the 
other half of said profits belonging to her arising from such 
sale of the waters shall be retained by the party of the 
first part, he rendering to her at the time an acknowledg- 
ment of receipts, and allowed to her in the settlement of 
accounts between them. 

Ninth. The party of the second part further stipulates 
and agrees with the party of the first part that she will not 
mortgage or in any way further encumber the property 
described in the said mortgage executed and delivered by 
her to him on the 7th day of February, 1872. 

Tenth. And it is further agreed to and understood by 



Appendix XVI. 455 

the parties of this contract, as part of the consideration due 
to the party of the first part, that in case the party of the 
second part shall fail to pay the interest now due and be- 
coming due from the date of this contract upon the nine 
thousand nine hundred dollars secured to the party of the 
first part by the mortgage made and delivered to him on 
the 7th day of February, 1872, by the party of the second 
part and which mortgage is hereinbefore more fully de- 
scribed, within eight years from the date hereof, then the 
said party of the first part or his legal representatives shall 
have the legal right to enter upon and take possession of 
the property described in said mortgage, and all right and 
title of the party of the second part to such property shall 
thereupon cease. 

In witness whereof the parties hereto have signed their 
names and affixed their seals on the day and date above 
mentioned, to wit [on this 24th day of February, 1873.] 
S. A. COLLINS, 
JEREMIAH EIGHMIE. 

Signed, sealed and delivered in the presence of 
John D. Townsend, 
Amanda T. Jones. 
City and County of New York, State of New York. 

" On this 24th day of February, 1873, before me personally 
appeared Jeremiah Eighmie and Sarah A. Collins to me 
known, and known to me to be the individuals described 
in and who executed the foregoing instrument, who severally 
acknowledged to me that they executed the same for the 
purposes therein mentioned. 

"THOS. B. ODELL, 

Notary Public, 
New York County." 



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